On with the colors that cover me Red, white and blue made ready for the fight I thank whatever higher powers be For bringing us together this night In the clutches of annual defeat I’ve winced, cried ‘loud and swore Dulled pain with cheap beer and bloody meat Yet I would not trade those years of yore Beyond this place of food and wine Cigar smoke curls and women dance This weekend we have stolen time Our mundane lives enhanced It matters not the final score How many times I fail the dream I am the confounder of the Krieg I am captain of the American Team