O Kaep-tain! my Kaep-tain! our fearful trip is done;
The team has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won;
The Lombardi is near, the fans I hear, the NinersNation all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady Offense, the Defense grim and {who loves da pass} rush:
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red'n'gold
Where on the turf my Kaep-tain lies,
Fallen cold {under a shower of gatorade} and dead {-happy-that-he-is-going-to-Disneyland}
O Kaep-tain! my Kaep-tain! rise up and hear the NinersNation;
Rise up--for you the flag is flung--for you the drumline beats;
For you the "7-11" jerseys and ribbon'd foam-fingers--for you the stands a-crowding;
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Kaep-tain! dear Quarterback!
This arm beneath your head;
It is some dream that on the field,
You've fallen 4th and 5.
My Kaep-tain does not answer, {Suzy K. is interviewing him} his lips are pale and still; {it's New York in Feb what did you expect?!}
My Head Coach does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will; {he's busy cabbage patching}
The 6th Lombardi is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;
From fearful trip, the victor team, comes in with Lombardi won;
Exult, O Ninersnation, and ring, O bells!
But I, with mournful {hell no!} tread,
Walk the interwebz my Fooch patrols,
Awaiting draft day 2014
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