Once upon an evening dreary
I watched our team look weak and weary.
Then came a grackle from a distant shore
Landing on the Kyle Field floor
He stood there stoic, as if napping
Sometimes crapping, crapping on the Kyle Field floor.
"Tis some visitor" I muttered, "crapping on the Kyle Field floor.
Only this and nothing more."
Ah, distinctly I remember
Two whole months before December
The crystal trophy we adore
Beyond our grasp forevermore.
Quoth the grackle, "Nevermore."
Eagerly, I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow
From the playbook surcease of sorrow-something we could use to score
And renew hope for the trophy we adore
Absent here forevermore.
Quoth the grackle, "Nevermore."
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating there no longer.
We were only down a score. Only this and nothing more.
But then Calzada was cast upon the end zone floor
And hopes were dashed forevermore.
Quoth the grackle, "Nevermore."
And the grackle, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid crust of Kyle Field floor;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the stadium light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be liftednevermore!