Longhorns at the mat

The future looked terrific for the Longhorns on that day,
They looked to beat the Aggies, and of them make some hay.

But Goodson ran for 41, and Colt's passes looked real lame,
The orange-clad crowd in Austin began to feel some pain.

And then Mac Brown removed his shades and Bevo cut a fart,
McCoy he then did leave the field, prone on a John Deere cart.

The Aggie Band let out a cheer and played their old War Hymn,
The Longhorn crowd looked to the sky wishin Vince could come back in.

But Vince was up in Nashville and Earl no longer plays;
And Ricky's up in Canada toking reefer every day.

So upon the 40 acres, a melancholy did set in,
Even down on Sixth Street, the drunks would not drink gin.

Earl and Ricky and swift-footed Vince,
Could not come to save the day.
Even Darrell Royal had to admit,
"The Longhorns got outplayed."

And when the game was over,
Grown men in Austin wept.
The Tower did not glow orange,
But no one leapt to death.

Most of the teasips went on home,
They sat to have a beer.
They pulled out last year's Rose Bowl tape,
Which they always keep real near.

They watched as Vincent ran the field,
And praised Coach Mac once more.
Then they grabbed the tequila,
Muttering quietly, "Nevermore."

"Next year we'll whup the Aggies
"Colt should be good by then.
"Next year we'll go their house,
"Run up the score again."

But tonight is just for drinkin,
And lickin Longhorn wounds.
Next year we'll go to Kyle Field,
And leave it wrecked and ruined.