Full many a glorious comeback win have we seen
Flattering our Thundering D with sovereign eye,
Kissing Scotty’s bemused face the points won clean,
Gilding our GDT streams with heavenly alchemy;
Anon - shall we permit Tocchet’s dirty horde to ride
With ugly rack on their dung spatter’d faces,
And from the forlorn underworld their visage hide,
Coveting wins from the west with their playoff chases:
But our young guns this evenings’ game will shine
With triumphant splendor on KFC and Perfecto’s brow;
And out, alack! Let Lurch but several Cawhuts grind;
And that Shuffles’ line pound thine tendy’s five hole for me now.
Yo, for the Jets my love no whit disdaineth;
Wins of the team may stain when heaven's sun staineth.