When the game at hand is all that is left.
No bowls, no practice, no reason for stress.
Find a friend who is likewise not fighting for a spot.
But fighting for pride when that's all that they've got.
Offer a tall glass of whiskey and a firm handshake.
For a friend in sorrow is the best friend to make.
No words need be spoken, no reason for frowns.
Just finish the bottle before a night on the town.
There'll be gambling and drinking and plenty of skirts.
Nothing's off limits no plays to rehearse.
The cops might get angry and take us away.
But when the whiskey is gone there's no reason to stay.
Passed out and shirtless is how this will end.
Handcuffed together in a dirty grey pen.
Tomorrow we'll fight and struggle and bleed.
And remember last night and the pants that we peed.
God bless college football and God bless the Riot Bowl!