T'was the night before the Super Bowl
Silent in the Hoaglin household, it's like the anti-rock and roll.
Everyone was asleep, but one
The Seahawks-crazed writer, with a story to be told.
It's like Christmas, he thought, sacrilegiousness aside
What a football season it's been, quite a wild ride
One game left, excitement cannot be described, cannot be spoken
More giddy than a child whose currently watching Frozen.
I, in my beanie, my eyes full of hurt.
I sit here warm in my old school sweatshirt
Can't sleep! I'll sleep when I'm dead!
With visions of pigskin dancing in my head.
When a familiar sounds appeared on the television.
The volume went up, it was not a decision!
It's Marshawn! Doing an interview with such precision.
Haha, it's like the media thinks his quotes need revision!
The dude's a beast, truth be told
This "schtick" as they call it will never, ever get old!
As a running back, he truly breaks the mold!
People just hate him for the journalists he's trolled.
When what to my tired eyes do appear?
More garbage about deflate-gate, nothing to fear!
Pats can deflate all they want, Pete and the boys will make this quick.
Another Seahawks championship; Pete Carroll the new Belichick.
Now Michael! Now Clifford! Now Russell and Kameron!
On Richard! On Kenneth! On Douglas and Marshawn!
Touchdown Seahawks! Over and over all game long!
One more win, Seattle's partying like Cheech and Chong!
Is it un-patriotic to hate the Patriots, he thought in his head.
Oh well, don't care, they're more weak than French Bread.
Go Seahawks, he thought, as he finally fell asleep.
Head hits the pillow and I'm out, no need to count sheep.
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