Sophomore year
You rushed for an average
Of 8 1/3 yards per carry
All eyes were on you
Junior year
You blew your knee out
At an out-of-town game
Nowhere to go but
Down, down, down
Nothing but the ground
for you to fall to
By July
You'd made a whole bunch of new friends
People you used to look down on
And you'd figured out
A way to make real money
Giving Ns to your friends
And it felt stupendous:
Chrome spokes on your Japanese bike
But selling acid was a bad idea
And selling it to a cop was a worse one
And new laws said that
17-year-olds could do federal time
You were the first one,
so I sing this song for you
William Standaforth Donahue
Your grandfather rode the boat
Over from Ireland, but
You made a bad decision or two.