Twas the week before Dallas, when all through the land
It was plain to the world, Robert Griffin is the man.
The stockings don’t always match, but what do I care,
This young quarterback plays with spectacular flare.
Just seven weeks ago, people left us for dead,
With visions of next season in Shanahans head.
And mamma the Giants fan, talkin lots of smack,
Had my beloved Redskins slated for the dirt nap.
When out on the field there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my seat to see what was the matter.
Outside of the pocket he flew like a flash,
Tore open the defense like the odd can of hash.
Robert and the rest put on a hell of a show
and gave the lustre of a team that’s ready to go.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But Morris running over Dallas on Thanksgiving this year.
With a young Quarterback, so lively and quick,
along with Mr Morris, on the ground we’re just sick.
More rapid than eagles the victories they came,
With a group of receivers, that nobody would claim!
"Now Tanna! now, Pierre! now, Joshua and Hankerson!
There isn’t a secondary that can cover all of em!
To the top of the rout! Then go up for the ball!
Now dash away! Dash away! It’s Robinson you’ll!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
After the bye week, people expected us to die.
So up at the Skins place the players all knew,
Robert Griffin The Third should be a captain too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the air
Talk of the playoffs, and the Skins could be there.
As I drew in my head, with it spinning around,
Could this actually be true, the playoffs abound.
He was dressed in his gear, from his head to his foot,
And his dazzling smile couldn’t be tarnished with soot.
With the burden of past years flung onto his back,
He looks like a seasoned pro, with this offensive attack.
His eyes-how they twinkled! his smile how merry!
He’s awakened the franchise, and has all the fans merry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
With his injured knee, he just couldn’t go.
The stump of a pencil he held tight in his teeth,
Shanahan declared, Captain Kirk starts that week.
He has nerves of steel and never quivers like jelly,
And the numbers he put up broke records they tell me!
He was chubby and plump, a right crotchety old elf,
And I laughed when I see Reid, in spite of myself!
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know the Skins weren’t dead.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And led us to victory, over those green clad jerks.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, as the win total grows!
He sprang to his podium, to give his team props,
And next week against Dallas, pull out all the stops.
But I heard him exclaim, 'ere he stepped out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, NFC East title’s in sight!"
WE WANT DALLAS
WE WANT DALLAS
WE WANT DALLAS
WE WANT DALLAS
WE WANT DALLAS
WE WANT DALLAS
WE WANT DALLAS
HTTR !
It was plain to the world, Robert Griffin is the man.
The stockings don’t always match, but what do I care,
This young quarterback plays with spectacular flare.
Just seven weeks ago, people left us for dead,
With visions of next season in Shanahans head.
And mamma the Giants fan, talkin lots of smack,
Had my beloved Redskins slated for the dirt nap.
When out on the field there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my seat to see what was the matter.
Outside of the pocket he flew like a flash,
Tore open the defense like the odd can of hash.
Robert and the rest put on a hell of a show
and gave the lustre of a team that’s ready to go.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But Morris running over Dallas on Thanksgiving this year.
With a young Quarterback, so lively and quick,
along with Mr Morris, on the ground we’re just sick.
More rapid than eagles the victories they came,
With a group of receivers, that nobody would claim!
"Now Tanna! now, Pierre! now, Joshua and Hankerson!
There isn’t a secondary that can cover all of em!
To the top of the rout! Then go up for the ball!
Now dash away! Dash away! It’s Robinson you’ll!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
After the bye week, people expected us to die.
So up at the Skins place the players all knew,
Robert Griffin The Third should be a captain too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the air
Talk of the playoffs, and the Skins could be there.
As I drew in my head, with it spinning around,
Could this actually be true, the playoffs abound.
He was dressed in his gear, from his head to his foot,
And his dazzling smile couldn’t be tarnished with soot.
With the burden of past years flung onto his back,
He looks like a seasoned pro, with this offensive attack.
His eyes-how they twinkled! his smile how merry!
He’s awakened the franchise, and has all the fans merry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
With his injured knee, he just couldn’t go.
The stump of a pencil he held tight in his teeth,
Shanahan declared, Captain Kirk starts that week.
He has nerves of steel and never quivers like jelly,
And the numbers he put up broke records they tell me!
He was chubby and plump, a right crotchety old elf,
And I laughed when I see Reid, in spite of myself!
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know the Skins weren’t dead.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And led us to victory, over those green clad jerks.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, as the win total grows!
He sprang to his podium, to give his team props,
And next week against Dallas, pull out all the stops.
But I heard him exclaim, 'ere he stepped out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, NFC East title’s in sight!"
WE WANT DALLAS
WE WANT DALLAS
WE WANT DALLAS
WE WANT DALLAS
WE WANT DALLAS
WE WANT DALLAS
WE WANT DALLAS
HTTR !
