Lyrics:
Four quarters stand the test of time
Territory
Painted fifty yard line
Storm field
Blank check paid fines
The rings the jacks
The crown a matter of time
the catch, comes down at the 20-yard line.
COMMENTATOR 2:
Number 63 Lindstrom, from Boston College, has had a great year, Tom. Averaging two and a half sacks
awake at night waiting for your call
But when it rings I let it echo through the hall
Why do I always fall at the five yard line?
Will somebody tell me
(Yeah)
Got my name in the Deaf history (Yeah) check out the engraving
From the 1st yard line
You're behind the times
We see that you're blind
So tell me,
fallin' for the first time
You're convinced that you'll
Spend the rest of your life
On Friday nights and fifty-yard lines
They were all alone in the
Middle
On the 50 yard line (line)
Like I'm trying to win my Super Bowl ring (I'm trying to win it all)
Let me just do my thing (just let me do my thing)
You are in
life with no sense of time
And I go back to the feel of a fifty yard line
A blanket, a girl, some raspberry wine
Wishin' time would stop right in its
life with no sense of time
And I go back to the feel of a fifty yard line
A blanket, a girl, some raspberry wine
Wishin' time would stop right in its
You know the lights of my hometown
They come alive when the sun goes down
'We got the 50-yard line on a Friday night
Mainstreet drag lined up
You know the lights of my hometown
They come alive when the sun goes down
We got the fifty yard line on a Friday night
Main Street drag lined up
it down
Money in the bag and we scoring now yeah
Touch down
40 Yard line
30
20
10
5
And we scoring now yeah
Touchdown
Putting up six yeah
Yeah we keep
helluva halftime show
Up there on Heaven's 50 yard line
But Down here you're still on our minds
I ain't a Bama fan but man I hate goodbyes
Until we meet
down my one way flight
We didn't meet halfway in the pouring rain
I didn't write her name on the 50 yard line
I've seen all the movies, but they don't
(Whoa, whoa, shit, whoa)
It rains, it pours (ooh)
We have a penalty flag thrown at the thirty yard line (whoa, shit)
(Whoa, shit, whoa, shit)
Personal
largemouth bass
Just my boy and me
Or maybe on a fifty-yard line
Watchin' Alabama whoop up on Tennessee
Or maybe on a front porch swing
Somethin' cold
rather miss when I shoot for the moon
I'll rather jump through hoops on fire everyday
And collapse a yard from the finishing line
Than be okay, just fine
nines and boat rides
Don't trip off that lick
I'm getting all mine
We won't talk unless it's your find
Every time I come out the game
I'm on the yard line
line (yard line) that's a dash
My Nigga I'm Lit
Came from the underground had to put in work now a nigga getting paid
My nigga I'm lit
Always had girls
Yeah we love Friday night lights
Fifty yard lines
And staying up all night
We may never get to have a senior prom night
We may never get to throw our
Standing on the 50 yard line
Pull out a bat a bod man like a yard line
Hold on
He said he go blam, blam what
You a killer we killers so what
Said he walked
On the one yard line we were that close
That's what hurts the most
You and me together like peanut butter jelly
You'll always be the one ain't shit that they
sense of time
And I go back to the feel of a fifty yard line
A blanket, a girl, some raspberry wine
Wishin' time would stop right in its tracks
Every time
a drum major on the fifty yard line
I just did a hand stand on the beat (On the beat)
Yea my name two three no Jordan, I'm really important
Gotta closet
goal from the 30 yard line
They forget to add seven yards for the snap
And 10 more 'cause the goal posts are pushed way back
In 1974,
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