Jingle Browns

As Another Season Goes Wassailing Away

This time of year, fans and players alike begin thinking of the holidays. At least, that's the way it is if you play or root for teams like the Cleveland Browns, for whom the playoffs are plainly absurd. In this vein, here are some Christmas carols you can sing as you wait for the season to mercifully end.


Good King Wecantpass looked out

Over Cleveland's famines

Vomiting, he had a stroke

Just like Peter Gammons

Gently fell the ball that night

At the feet of Braylon

As it struck him on the hands

Effort he be mai-ai-lin'


O, putrid team

Your offense like molasses

It is the time for your coach to be canned

Please try a D

That doth involve some tack-ling

With linebackers, it would be like a team

The faint, false hope

Of competence and winning

Is so much smoke

And mirrors unadorned

Fall on your knees!

Put down the empty bottle!

O team, team, you suck

Yes, indeed, my team doth suck

O team ... O team, goddam team

My team doth suck


Dashing all our hopes

In a half-assed kind of way

O'er the fields we go

Sucking all the way

Brady's on the bench

Now Derek is there too

We're hoping for a miracle

But our QB's more like glue

O ...

Cleveland Browns,

Cleveland Browns,

Overrated dorks,

My health plan will not pay out

For eyeballs gouged with forks

Cleveland Browns,

Cleveland Browns,

Throw the ball away!

Once we had some talent here

But we pissed it all away!


It came upon a Sunday clear,

A very poor substitute

For football played professionally,

Instead the question is moot

What have we done to vex the gods?

What blasphemy have we fans wrought?

We root, they play, and by the end,

Both things come squarely to nought.


Away in the Stadium

No chance for a win

The team's 1-6 there

How long has it been?

The team's giant coach stood

All cozy and warm

He challenged the coin flip

And stayed right in form

The defense showed passion

The offense did not

Jamal hit the D-line

And fell on the spot

The team had one hope left

'Twas Cincy they played

Against modern offenses

They got flambee'd

But modern, alas,

Does not our O denote

The team wandered aimlessly,

Pointless and rote

Their quarterback rivalled

The one on our team

Most fungal in nature

It made both fans scream

Away from the Stadium

The fans slouched away

The NFL scheduled

And forced them to play

With joy from their hearts

Having quickly been drained The "Wait for next year" shouts

Were awfully strained


Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo,

Right down Lousy Coach Lane

He's got a headset, and an expression that

Says he is in pain

He hears voices on his headset

He inspires us all

He shows coaching acumen

Just like a brick wall


Savage the GM

Was a bitter, sheltered soul

With a boyish face

Mired in third place

He could not get on a roll

Savage the GM

Thought the seat was hot that day

As he made a fuss

Threw his coach a bus

And hoped he would go away

There should have been some magic in That old draft board he found

But when he got the chance to shine He whiffed in several rounds

O, Savage the GM

Had to hurry on his way

For as Savage knew

When you say, "F&$* you!"

It's time to call it a day


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