A long long time ago
I can still remember how
The Jets fans use to make me laugh
Oh hold on, that was just last night
It turns out they're stick sucking, right?
Especially their coaching staff...
But in February, they never shiver
They call and get a pie delivered
And watch us on the TV
And whimper "why can't we be?"
I loved that little kid that cried
About the green beans' last year slide
What was New York's rate of suicide
The day their false hopes died?
Why, why, can't they just let it die?
trust the science, back the Giants,
or just follow hai alai?
But them good old Jets
Are champs in every July
Before their false hopes die
Now for years they’ve been irrelevant
Coached by a pervert elephant
And that’s the way it’s got to be
Yeah the Jesters play for the king and queen
And some coked-up posters on Gang Green
And twice a year for you and me
But while the Wrecks was lookin’ down
The Jesters put the ball on the ground
Then Sanchez makes a connection
But in the wrong direction
I was a lonely teenage bronkin buck
The last time that team had any luck
But now those guys are sad as f***
Each day their false hopes die
[repeat chorus]
(to be continued… or you do it, I need more sleep)
Helter skelter, Cromartie's on Welker
No wait that's some chick he met at the bus shelter
Eight miles high and out of gassssssssss
He landed fouled-up on the grass,
Tom Brady threw another pass,
With the Wreckster spitting out his fourth slim-fast
Well the half-time air smelled like derriere
With a car commercial on the air
We all got up to pee,
And we missed another TD
Cuz the players tried to take the field,
The Jesters' fate already sealed,
Do you recall what was revealed,
The day their false hopes died?
[repeat chorus]
And there they were in second place,
two generations lost in space,
still trying to get a ring again
So come on Tim be nimble, Tim be quick
Tebowing on a candlestick, cuz
fire is the devil's only friend
And as I watched him on the line,
They figured it was Tebow Time
"No Patriot in Hell
Can break that back-up's spell!"
And as the ball sailed high into the night
And landed way off to the right,
I saw Belichick laughin' with delight,
The day their false hopes died
[repeat chorus - last verse slower]
I met a girl who bled Jets green,
and I teased her about the crappy scene
but she just cussed and turned away
I went down to the Orange Bowl
Where the Jets won by three field-goals
But they blew that stadium up, 2008
And in New York, the children cry
Their parents drink, and the Jets still slide
At the bottom of the division,
they'll fin'ly make the decision
And the three men I admire least,
Herm Edwards, Fredo, and the Beast,
Were in the rear-view in the East,
The day their false hopes died
[repeat chorus]
