Forgive me for submitting poetry here. Forgive my repetend, too. I'm just getting a little giddy....
FOOTBALL TIME
Like Rip Van Winkle I arise
As autumn cools the Southern skies,
With Athens, Georgia on my mind—
It’s football time, it’s football time.
Although I’ve strayed on restless feet,
I’m always called to old Broad Street,
Down Milledge, on to Sanford Drive,
To feel alive, to feel alive.
To hear those ninety-thousand roar,
My Georgia heart needs little more,
Just add a dawg and bugler’s tone—
I’ve made it home, I’ve made it home.
So when I don the red and black,
And scream “Go Dawgs,” cut me some slack,
I’ve got sweet Georgia on my mind.
It’s football time. IT’S FOOTBALL TIME.
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