Sophomore year
You rushed for an average of eight and a third yards per carry
All eyes were on you
Junior year
Blew your knee out at an out of town game
Nowhere to go but down down down
Nothing but the ground left for you to fall to
By July, had made a new bunch of brand new friends
in people you used to look down on
And you’d figured out a way to make real money
Given N to your friends in the (something something)
Chrome spokes on your Japanese bike
But selling acid was a bad idea
And selling it to a cop was a worse one
The new law said seventeen year olds could do federal time
You were the first one so I sing this song for you
William Standfoth Donahue
Your grandfather rode the boat over from Ireland
but you made a bad decision or two
