When in the chronicle of a fully armed Jet
I see active first and second lines, again the fairest lines,
And our special teams tweaks hit hard, like a salmon wet
Shake loose thy equipment - throttle any sundry Wild times.
Courage, fortitude, skill – rip it and celly at our loud behest,
To sharpen thy skate, thy blade, prep thy mouth guard, and helm,
We seek our quaint antique jokes to somehow inflect
Our successes today with levity, wielding humour like oak and elm.
Aye, and all of our praises are but prophecies
Of Schuffhaus’ backcheck time, all you prefiguring;
We look’d to Farmboy's return to grace with hopeful eyes,
That first line, with enough skill enough your worth to sing:
For we, which now behold this present string,
Chose not to stumble or mourn less chaotic things.
Or tie, a tie is just dandy.
Lets win tonight and get rid of those pesky kittens once and for all .
