We came through the tunnel to see the fading sun,
with visions that the night would soon be won.
The lights came on and ready we are,
everyone of us will have battle scars.

The opening kick is under way,
the crowd is entranced because it is Sunday.
Sprinting down the field bodies collide,
as adrenaline transforms us from Jekyll to Hyde.

The quarterback releases the ball into the air,
with three seconds left it is the last prayer.
It floats on forever like a bird in flight,
the crowd stands still with muscles uptight.

In the receivers hands the object finds its place,
the opposition all lower their heads in disgrace.
We cheer for surely we have won the game,
and now the world will remember our name.