I'm not the type to just give in
|My body told me to lie down|
and practice playing dead.
I thought that I would rather play
another game instead.
I’m not the type to just give in,
I’m not that kind of guy.
When someone tells me, “That’s enough.”
I always question, “Why?”
I pulled myself up to my feet
and limped back to the line.
If I could just stay vertical
I knew I would be fine.
This corn hole game is killing me,
there isn’t any doubt.
But I’m not leaving ‘til I win,
or ‘til they count me out.
This kid I’m going up against
has shown no weakness yet.
I’ll have to put the pressure on
and double up my bet.
Well, that was a mistake by me.
This kid has wiped me out.
I feel like I went fifteen rounds
and lost the title bout.
But he is only ten years old,
how did he get so good?
Or maybe I am just that bad
and I misunderstood.
I bragged I was the corn hole king,
the best that you could find.
And I still thought I had the touch.
When did it all unwind?
That crown I raised so long ago
and had so proudly worn
now bears the dents and battle scars
of ridicule and scorn.
And so I’ll step down in defeat,
accept this fatal blow.
My battered body is done in,
I’ve made my final throw.
Wait! What is that they’re playing there?
Badminton is my game!
Yeah, I was once the king there, too.
It is my claim to fame.
If I could just crawl over there
I’d show them what I’ve got.
But I am not the man I was,
a champion I’m not.
I guess those days are over now.
Forget what I just said.
I think that I’ll lie down right here,
pretend that I am dead.