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‘Twas the day of the Browns
And all through Kansas City
It was actually kinda quiet
Road games such a pity
A mistake on the lake
The road we travel
To face a team of misfits
Facing coaching unravel
Hue Jackson is gone
The great Haley too
George Blowfish’s biggest fan
A middle finger raised to you
Now led by Greg Williams
A man delivering bounties
Lay a finger on Mahomes
A wanted man in many counties
But back to today’s fodder
A team called the Browns
Heartache and despair
And mocked as wayward clowns
The Drive, the Fumble
A history to rival our own
Come up with a new way to lose
And lean on that button called ‘Clone’
But now things are different
There’s a Mayfield, there’s a Garrett
The Chiefs still banged up with injuries
Oh how ever will we bear it?
Well stars are meant to rise
Like the fatboy Breeland Speaks
Our secondary filled with holes
But our pass rush plugging leaks
Can Tyreek actually play?
Or does his groin mean he’s broken?
Then up steps Chris Conley
“My oh my he’s so well spoken”
No Collins, No Peterson
Eric Berry in witness protection
Insert mediocre safety
And pray for natural selection
But we still have our savior
And then it’s simply math
Mahomes and insert random player
Equals outcome still…..bloodbath.
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