NOT EVEN THE SOUTHMOST ROLL COULD SAVE DALLAS

THERE IS NO JOY IN BROWNTOWN

The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Dallas Pokes that day;

the score stood 21 to 12, with but just a quarter left to play.

And then when Dak was decked and Dez Bryant blew the game,

a sickly silence fell upon stadium and the fans.

A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The rest

clung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast;

they thought, if only Witten could get a pass or two at that –

they'd put up even money, now, with Elliot on the mat.

But Bryant fell apart, and Garret let him sit and bake,

and the former was a lulu and the latter was a cake,

so upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat,

for there seemed but little chance of Dak getting back on track

Then from five thousand throats and more there rose a lusty yell;

it rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell;

it knocked upon the At and T roof, and resounded in the flat,

for Elliot, mighty Elliot, was in and rushing fast.

Ten thousand eyes were on him as he got in and took his stance.

five thousand tongues applauded when he came in trotting with a prance.

Then while the swarming defense tried to hold their ground and keep,

defiance gleamed in Elliot's eye, a sneer curled Bryants's lip.

And now the leather-covered pigskin came hurtling through the air,

and Dez stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.

Close by the sturdy tight end the ball unheeded sped—

"He stripped the ball," Bryant whined, and fumbled the ball instead

From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar,

like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore.

"Kill him! Kill the ref!" shouted someone on the stand;

and it's likely they'd have killed him had not the other zebras raised their hands.

"Fraud!" cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered fraud;

but one scornful look from Garret  and the mad audience was awed.

They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,

and knew Dez Bryant wouldn't let of that ball again.

Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright;

the band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,

and somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout;

but there is no joy in Brownsville — for Mighty Dallas is now out.