The Song of the Game.
The sound of Leather on hardwood
Classics, jerseys and sneakers on floor.
These instruments accompany the
Chorus of fans and haters
In unison they roar.
Deftly we move, we manouver
You can call it a dance
With a wish
A common goal,
A spheroid of gold,
This bomb explodes with a swish!
This dance we've created
Mastered, debated
We're pumped
We're inflated with pride
You've seen how we roll
Got that gift of control
And as Ballaz we stroll
This stride.
We divide and we conquer
We detect the undetected
The master strategy
We expect the unexpected
Deviously we play
No one tells us how we do
I'll have ya bodies movin'
By the time that I'm through
You may think this poem is tight
May think this poem is lame
But one thing you haven't listened to
Is the song of the GAME.
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