Once upon a noon December, we watched Ponder, we remember,
Over four weeks ago our loss to the Packers of football lore—
While we watched, nearly screaming, suddenly we all were dreaming,
Of our Vikings, crashing through the Lambeau door—
"'Tis some visitor," the Cheeseheads muttered, "tapping at our chamber door—
Only this and nothing more."
Ah, distinctly we remember it was on the second of December;
And each separate defensive member tried to bring our quarterback to the floor.
Eagerly we wished the heaving;—vainly we saw the football grieving
Into the hands of Burnett receiving one more interception threw our win out the door- Dreams of winning were no more
For the rare and radiant team whom came to win the war—
Will need to dream again- evermore.
But now the loud, proud, most obnoxious warn will come blowing out each purple horn
Thrills us—fills us with fantastic hopes never felt before;
So that now, to still the purple blood of our hearts, we stand repeating,
"'Tis some visitors entreating entrance at our MOA Field door—
Some Cheesehead visitors entreating entrance at our chamber door;—
Quoth the Vikings-Nevermore!
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