The Ode to the Odorous Bengals

Another losing season has finally passed
And most teams have kicked Tigers' ass.
Please your highness, Mr. Mikey Brown,
Stop directing moves of divas and clowns.

Let Ocho and T.O. pack up their show
Off to MTV, where brash performers go.
And let the men who give most for the team
Ignite the fans' precious football dreams.

Just hire a smart scout who knows the draft
To find real players without any extra trash.
Think offensive and defensive linemen first
They secure the reality of any lasting worth.

Poor Carson and Marvin may have to leave
Both sick and tired of this dreadful grief.
To work for the Bengals surely takes its toll
Both guys probably feel at least 80 years old.

But when the free market urge does hit,
Don't take projects, has-beens, and other twits.
Turn the horrid curse of the Bungles around
With players who won't let other teammates down.

If losing teaches anything in its deadly sting,
Bengals fans hold PhD's in Hope and Suffering.
So, if it's just another fall from the football gods' grace
Why the hell can't the freekin' Steelers take our place?

Stop false promises of Super Bowl wonderlands
Filled with wins and accolades so shining and grand.
Face the fact that the team might not be that great
When prospects and leaders don't pull their own weight.

Bring back old greats to encourage the recruits:
Munoz, Anderson, and Bob Johnson to boot.
Maybe instill performance that the great ones had
That Rudy kid from Notre Dame wasn't so bad. 

In Coach Paul Brown's name, fans won't rest in peace
Until next year begs big bucks for parking and seats.
Now, just put away the stripes and Hoo-dey cheers
For the mighty Bengals are pussycats again this year.