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From 3/15

The Spring is sprung,
The grass is riz,
FITS wonders where
them Tar Heels is!

They dissed the Dookies
Where are their manners?
Not taught to them
by Gut and Hanners?

"We can't be beat"
Their refrain so vile
The pale blue losers
in deep denial

So they took their bile
and mindless prattle
to a sordid death
in dank Seattle

They built a fire
of rotted Oak and wicker
and spindly bits
of Brian Bersticker

Though lacking birch
and rock hard maple
they did toss on
some Jason Capel

Cota said they'd surely win
He said he knew they would
Despite an oddly sloth-like game
From "one point" slug Haywood

'Twas burger cookin' time
with all those Big McDonald's
That bucktooth Lang
and airball QB Ronald

And don't forget
some hot tabasco
for army man
the so suave Vasco

Oh the cries were eery,
The voices shrill,
A season up in smoke
on a Weber grill

Now Addie says
as the reporter delves
"Weber ain't squat
We beat ourselves"

What happens next?
It's to be seen...
Some pride restored
by old Saint Dean?

Or will Gut be wacked
by Meyer Lansky
and Roy anointed
by Lost Art Chansky?