The Spurs
San Antonio Spurs, oh what a team
Claims of dynast, maybe they’re true
One championship, for most is a dream
But four in ten years throws scales quite askew

Lately however, they don’t look so new
Turnovers, fouls, inconsistent play
They’re playing so badly, I’m crying too
They might miss the playoffs? Woe is the day

Our players are aging, that’s what THEY say
But year after year, the Spurs prove them wrong
The naysayers doubt, please get hurt they pray
Still we persist, and our foes sing our song

While mariachis strum, haters still talk
As the Spurs float smug, down the Riverwalk