Speechless...
When I feel that chill and smell that wet cut grass
I'm back in my helmet cleats and shoulder pads
Standin in the huddle listenin to the call
Fans going crazy for the boys of fall.
They didn't let just anybody in that club
Took every ounce of heart and sweat and blood
To get to wear those game day jerseys down the hall
King of the school man we're the boys of fall.
Well it's turnin to face the stars and stripes
It's fighting back them butterflies
It's call it in the air alright, yes sir we want the ball
And it's knockin heads and talkin trash
It's slingin mud and dirt and grass
It's I got your number, I got your back
When your backs agains the wall
You mess with one man you got us all
The Boys of Fall
In little towns like mine it's all they got
Newspapers clippings fill the coffee shops
The old men will always think they know it all
Young girls will dream of the Boys of Fall.
No comments:
Post a Comment