Sophomore year

You rushed for an average of eight and a third yards per carry

All eyes were on you



Junior year

Blew your knee out at an out of town game

Nowhere to go but down down down

Nothing but the ground left for you to fall to



By July, had made a new bunch of brand new friends

in  people you used to look down on

And you'd figured out a way to make real money

Given N  to your friends in the (something something) 

Chrome spokes on your Japanese bike

But selling acid was a bad idea

And selling it to a cop was a worse one

The new law said seventeen year olds could do federal time

You were the first one so I sing this song for you

William Standfoth Donahue

Your grandfather rode the boat over from Ireland

but you made a bad decision or two