Pre-season games don't have the thrill
like those that are official will.
I guess it's like a cousin's kiss
compared to your sweetheart's.
It's dress rehearsal. Nothing more.
There's not much interest in the score.
The veteran dancers step aside
so stand-ins can step up.
But dress rehearsals have their place.
And with football that is the case.
They line up on a spot-lit stage
to see whose learned their steps.
The rookies know this is the time
to do their best to try to shine.
They know that if they don't impress
it's likely they'll be cut.
And for us fans it is the chance
to get psyched up for autumn's dance
when ballet's best with pads and cleats
will spin and leap with grace.
Worshipping a Dead King
The absurdity of Elvis Mania.
They loved him true and tender
although he did things his way.
And now three long decades later
their love just won't go away.
They're crying in the chapel.
In the jailhouse weeping's heard.
In the ghetto and in Vegas
he's still worshiped. It's absurd.
His fans remain in mourning.
Like his suede shoes they are blue.
There at Graceland hound dogs whimper.
And hotels are heart-broke too.
So Elvis Aaron Presley
wears his gilded crown in death.
Seems his grave vault is a throne room.
For his fans he's king, not myth.