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.

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