The Fall of the Star High School Running Back

Sophomore year, you rushed for an average of eight and a third yards per carry

All eyes were on you

Junior year, you blew your knee out at an out of town game

Nowhere to go to but down down down

Nothing but the ground left for you to fall to



By july, you'd made a whole bunch of brand new friends,

People you used to look down on

And you'd figured out a way to make real money

Giving ends to your friends, and it felt stupendous

Chrome spokes on your Japanese bike,

But selling acid was a bad idea

And selling it to a cop was a worse one

And the new law said that seventeen year olds could do federal time

You were the first one, so I sing this song for you,

William Stanaforth Donahue,

Your grandfather rode the boat over from Ireland,

But you made a bad decision or two

Yeah