Twas the Night before Sunday and all through the hotel

Not a Redskin was stirring not even Brunell

The jerseys were hung by the doors with care

In hopes that the playoffs would soon be there

 

LaVar Arrington was nestled snug in his bed

while visions of gettin his ass off the bench danced in his head

And Santana in his doo-rag, and Brunell with his cane

Had just settled their brains for a long winter's layin

 

When out in the lobby there arose such a clatter

Joe Gibbs sprang from his bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the window, he flew like a flash,

Ran down the stairs and threw up his stash.

When what to his wondering eyes should appear

But Andy Reid and two rutgers queers

He knew in a moment that it must be Philly.

Visions of Eagles making him silly.

 

More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:

"Now, LJ! Now, Trotter! now Dawkins and Lewis!

On, Moats, on Reggie, on Runyan and Hollis!

To the end zone! To the end zone!!

Now dash away! dash away! dash away home

 

And then, in a twinkling, I heard Andy Reid say

go f*** yourselves Redskins, you ain't winning today!!!!!!

 

 

 

Go Eagles!!!!!!

BUCE ARE IN THE PLAYOFFS!!!!

 

Now beat the Saints and win the South!