THE JAYHAWK
(With apologies to Edgar Allen Poe)
Flying high along its journey, when lightning struck it in the tourney
Rolled in stiff upon a gurney, rigor mortis to the core
The dream is gone, now awakened, another season lost, forsaken
Confidence not stirred but shaken, stiff with pain and nothing more
As fate returns for its encore
Quoth the Jayhawk, "No Final Four"
The easy road to being great, another cupcake lays in wait
They just can’t help but take the bait, a cakewalk through an open door
History-making easy seeding, nine or higher, but misleading
No one foresaw Kansas bleeding, they knew not what they had in store
All stars assembled, full of gladness, before their dreams descend to sadness
Drifting into late-March madness, as pressure builds in every pore
Alarms along the road are sounded, the big-head bird is trapped and grounded
Tracked along the road and hounded, worried when it cannot soar
The night before, the mood is manic, with passage booked on the Titanic
Steered once more by Captain Panic, another year is washed ashore
This time with twins, both named Morris, the same old game unfolds before us
As sirens squawk the same old chorus, the same song as the year before
The Rams knew how to steal the scene, with David played by Jamie Skeen,
They took their cue from Charlie Sheen, winning in the final score
Another shocker for the Hawkers, sent packing back to their hurt locker
Out-smarted by a coach named Shaka, with lesser talent on the floor
Hurting, flirting with disaster, fleeting thoughts of distant rapture
Lured this bird into its capture, tumbling through the same trapdoor
Silence mutes the cheers and shouting, all that’s left are tears and pouting
And lots of time for Self-doubting: is Toupee Bill up to the chore?
Or is he cursed forevermore?
Quoth the Jayhawk, "No Final Four"
