Let the gray clouds part, let the sunshine shine,
Let the lightning flash, and the bright bells chime,
Let all of New England rise together
for the NFL’s greatest quarterback ever
is returning to the field, coming back home,
the pigskin Pope is back in Rome,
William Shakespeare has his pencil back,
Atilla the Hun prepares to attack,
George Washington’s back on the Delaware,
Calvin Klein is making stuff to wear,
Davy Crockett picks up a gun,
Charles Lindberg’s plane rises toward the sun,
Elvis Presley picks up a guitar,
Henry Ford puts together a car,
Greatness is greatness and greatness wear cleats.
When number 12 hits the field we’ll rise from our seats.
Football’s thoroughbred is back on the track,
Boys and girls, time to smile.
Tom Brady is back.
He huffs and he puffs, he fakes and he throws,
He’ll stick the Lombardi up the commissioner’s nose,
When all the games are played, and the season’s done
He’ll have a fifth ring, one for the thumb.
He’ll fill victory’s rainbow, stand radiant and tall,
And no one will talk about deflated balls.

Listen to Carl’s poem:

  1. Nancy S. Nataloni says:

    What a tribute to our Thomas Brady #12.

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