A young boy is fussin

On the ground after rushin

And suffered a concussion

And he began touchin

His head blood was gushin

Went to the coach who said it was nothin

Stop being such a fuckin

Pussy and get back in the game

Despite not being able to say his name

Or stay in a lane

He was lost in his brain

So as he gained

Back his mind frame

His coach was already yelling what a dame

This is just a lame

Excuse I'm about to blow a fuse

If you make us fucking lose

Hear me in there you little jew

We're running twos

because of yous

Now get out there, fucking Move!

So the little dude

Made his way back Out

after a 3 count black out

So now he tracked

His way back

Heard the play but couldn't remember that

So he sat

In his position

Waiting to play victim

As the quarterback tapped

The center on the back

And took the snap

But the lack

Of process ability

His mind was blown like Kennedy

So he got clobbered by the enemy

Ending the defending plea

As he fell to the ground

Next thing he heard was the sound

Of nurses and doctors around


Broken brains go insane (3x)

Makin flames n takin names


Only twelve years old

With dry tears cold

On his cheeks

His eyes crunched with sleep

As they opened to take a peak

And he seeked for his feet

He still felt weak and beat

A cold feeling in his teeth

When he tried to speak

And nothing came out his beak

Just saliva would leak

And the doc meandered in sorta discreet

With his hair done sleek

And he would tweak

His mouth around

in order to make sound

but found

no words would meet

His ear just a fleet

Of nonsense in a bleak

Obscure feat

That sounded like greek

Everything moved slow like he was stoned

But this bed soon became his new home

And these the only people that he'd known

Cuz no longer could he operate a telephone

He'd let out extra moans

Every so often

Until he's in the closed coffin

Occasionally slow coughin

But from here there was no option

Other than to pull the plug

It was better than pumping him with a slug

So with a sigh and a tug

His mother lost her one love

And there would never be a sub

So she slit her wrists in the tub


Broken brains Go insane (3x)

Makin flames n takin names


The coach felt no remorse

For being the source

Of this homicide-suicide

the crop that fight, do or die

He knew it right

To win at all costs

Despite all lost

Cuz he was the boss

And some kids get tossed

To the side

If they just slide

Along for the ride

And try and glide

with the team's pride

While they don't abide

And get fried

When they step off the side

Lines and now one died

And they expect I

To be petrified

For my job

They can just slob my knob

If they try and rob

My fame in the name of god

I don't care if y'all sob

Or even mob

With a horde of snob

Soccer moms with bobs

Flibbity flob

I am the gobb

Stob drob and glob

There he dropped dead with a stroke

In front of all the folk

Who saw his life as a joke

Defenders of the kid who he yoked

The life away from

How did he stay numb

And say some

Bullshit about understanding where he came from

And now his name's done

As his fame comes

To a not so tragic end

And it felt like magic when

His stagnant skin

Became completely cold

And now his soul was sold