I can’t score a Touch Down
Fans frown
Flip upside down like that Charlie Brown

Nope, I can’t score touch downs
I’m found
Here on the ground, I can’t look profound

Hey, I’ll throw on my pads and my helmet
But I run too slow I can’t dodge through my foes
I’m hearing screams, Coach’s relentless
Just cause I am so clumsy I get hurt on a stroll

The forty yard line I am running
And huffing and puffing with a bloody nose
So I get plowed by those hefty trolls
And since I’m so skinny I’ll break all my bones

The marching band is drummin’
I should be with them but I’m such a coward
Cause my dad is the coach
He says “Shut the hell up and go hit the showers!”

Yeah, Those cheerleaders are hot
But they’re not dating the shrimp when the others all tower
Those blonde bimbos all at me they glower
They want the guys with the super strength powers

Dude, I can’t score touch downs
I’m crowned
“The Football Clown” and other rude nouns

Nope, I can’t score touch downs
Struck out
And my blood spouts when I get knocked out

With another fumble our score has gone down
My dad is growling with his fists he pounds
Cause when I catch the ball those guys surround
And I get ploughed, Ow!!!

They say that I’m such a girl go put on a gown
Our team is worse than the Cleveland Browns
Ain’t nothing more pitiful in the whole town
All our fans frown now

We huddle and plan out our plan
They said “Get out of the way run fast as you can”
Our score’s going south so I’m being panned
I can’t hit like a mini van

The football it lands right into my hands
This is insane since I stand no chance
Have the ball take flight but my toss is bad
It clobbers that drummer from the marching band

Grass I tasted, Ground I’m pasted
Those tackles come at me and feel like a bulldozer
Need more band-aids, A hospital stay
A full body cast before this is over

Not getting praise my father is yelling at me
Like “Damn son you blew it!”
I should be playing chess or some poker
Maybe horse racing I’d just need a broker

Crap I can’t score touch downs
The crowd
Sees me get ploughed and make a dust cloud

Nope, I can’t score touch downs
Shout loud
“You aren’t allowed to hold a ball now”

No, I can’t score a goal cause I’m such a lout
The Quarterback has paved me like grout
Will our team lose? With me there’s no doubt
Watch my mom’s pout sprout

I would sell my soul just to be well-endowed
With athletic skills so folks would be proud
In the stands there’s riots their boos are so loud
It’s time do bow down

Yeah, I play so lousy won’t see Super Bowl
Can’t even play Madden on my game console
The passes I flub and my teammates scowl
Pigskin it wobbles as we all squabble
Breaking my glasses when we throw down now

Nope, I can’t score touch downs
It’s foul
Punchin’ my jowls forcing me to howl

Dude, I can’t score touch downs
Not now
I yell out “Ow!” when their fists hit “Pow!”

Crap, I can’t score touch downs
I’m wound
Up in a ground mound that is where I’m found

Damn, I can’t score touch downs
Dad growls
I guess I shall throw in the dang towel