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by: Edgar Allen Joe
Once upon a noonday clear,
while I pondered in my Texan gear,
Over many a loud and curious volume of football lore,
While I chatted, talk of smack, suddenly there came a rack,
As of some one banging loudly, banging at my canopy door.
"Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my canopy door- Only this, and nothing more."
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the stark December,
And each teams craving member wrought its frame upon the field.
Eagerly I wished victory; vainly I had thought of victory
From the restaurant Correlli’s sorrow for the lost Baselli
For the rare and valiant Stallion of a man whom the angels name Baselli
Gone this year for evermore.
And the bold and gracious rustling of the Bull Pen sign
Thrilled me filled me with fantastic visions never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
"Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my canopy door-
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my canopy door-
This it is, and nothing more."
Presently my faith grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your conceding I implore;
But the fact is I was smacking, and so loudly you came racking,
And so boldly you came tapping, tapping at my canopy door,
That I was sure that I had heard, here I opened wide the door;
An ugly bird, and nothing more.
Deep into that outside peering, long I stood there looking leering,
Thinking, dreaming dreams no yanks ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was so broken, and the madness gave no token,
And of all the words were spoken was the one word TEXANS
This I yelled, and an echo murmured back the word, "TEXANS!"
Merely this, and nothing more.
Back into the canopy turning, all my friends stand there yearning,
Soon again I heard a banging somewhat louder than before.
"Surely," said I, "surely that ugly bird will lose
Let me see, Beat them hardily
Let my heart be happy as we score
"Tis the truth and nothing more."
Open here the stadium, when, with many a drums a banging,
In there stepped a ugly raven of the crow type what a bore;
Not the least might he did show; not a smidgen of smartness showed he;
But, with men of TEXANS glory, perched within the birds end zone
Perched there with another score
Touchdown, Field goal, and nothing more.
Then this ugly bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and sad purple uniform that he wore
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven,
Ghastly sad and pitiful raven wandering from the visitors shore
Tell me what thy reason for coming here was for
Ravens will win, "Nevermore."
Much I yelled at this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that the ravens are losing
Ever yet our best with seeing ugly bird win nevermore
Bird or beast their futile quest a bust lying there on the floor
The Ravens will win nevermore
But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid floor, spoke only
That he would lose and nothing more.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered, "Cowgirls surely tried before
And as Jerry left, his hopes diminished evermore."
He muttered Ravens will win here nevermore
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what he uttered was his only stock and store,
Caught from the jubilous reaction for him unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
Ravens will win Nevermore
But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,
Straight I saw the retreat of the Bird upon the floor
Then upon the stands drinking, I betook myself to thinking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore
Meant by winning "Nevermore."
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose sad eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
As I looked at the scoreboard I gloated o’er,
Yes that scoreboard I was gloating o'er,
Ravens shall win nevermore!
Then me thought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by cleat’s as they rattled on the grass lined floor.
Texans " I cried, "thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he hath sent thee
Return that interception that beautiful interception for a score!
Return that fumble on the floor return it for a score!"
Ravens winneth, "Nevermore."
"Loser said I lets not get evil What are you a bird or Devil!
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate and sobbing madly while you are losing badly
On this home of the Mighty Texans - tell me truly, I implore
Do you truly expect to triumph do you do you, I implore!"
I quote Ravens win, "Nevermore."
"Loser said I lets not get evil What are you a bird or Devil
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore
Tell me now your sorrow shining, as the clock runs down,
The pain of losing clamps around you clamps around you as before
Clamps around the thought of winning treating you just like before."
I quote Ravens win, "Nevermore"
"Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend," I leave you parting
"Get thee back to northern homeland where you might see hope again!
Leave no black plume as a token of that loss thy soul hath spoken!
Leave us here enjoying drinking!- quit the crying just ignore!
The constant ribbing as your walking, the constant ribbing just ignore!"
I quote Ravens win, "Nevermore"
And the Ravens, never flitting, still are crying still are crying
On greatness of this Stadium floor, yes the greatness of Reliant floor;
The tears have become a blessing as we have to water no more,
As the Band continues playing, playing songs of victory by the door;
We start jumping dancing screaming happiness galore,
The Ravens win here Nevermore
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