You tried out for the high school team. So you would have some childhood dreams. That you and your father could share. Football coach said you're too small. Don't even think of basketball. You knew you were destined to fail. Went to the track meet. You wanna be an athlete (sore loser). Get back in your seat they said. Go to the dugout. Three strikes you stuck out (sore loser). And home runs flew over your head. Looking down on rock n' roll. And you dreamed of scoring goals. You're saving those dreams for your bed. Thought it was cool to be a jock. You ended up a rent-a-cop. A dozen donuts in your hand. You're a loser. A sore loser. Now it seems the tables turned. The game of life you should have learned. So try using some of your brains. All your high school friends are stars. Driving really fancy cars. The irony drives you insane.