They call us linemen dumb, dumber than dirt,
but I don't give a whole rat's ass
about that shit's in all them classroom books.
Don't give a three-dog fuck for letters of intent.
I know I'm way too slow for big-time ball.
I drop out Monday after my last game
then, you turd, you'll see how fast I am,
how fast I get my sorry ass to the mill.
The union blocks for me. I'm done with yours.
That league championship got you Penn State.
For me, it gets me off the dead-man shift.
I'll get my Pop's barstool when he retires
and get a pension twice as better'n his
in forty years. That's how dumb I am. Was.