Текст песни
It's Friday night, 6:45 and you are not at a bar or a party
You're looking for parking
At the sports complex in the suburbs of Atlanta
Look there's a spot in the lot
With the black SUVs with the stick figure families
And the A+ honor students
And the throngs of moms
In their LuLu Lemons with their organic snacks
Electrolysized calves
And all the Dads standing ready
On the sidelines in their tight-ankled track pants
Like coach might put 'em in
Is this how it begins?
The dream of the frozen action photo
On the cover of Sports Illustrated
And the multimillion dollar deal
And how will it feel, when he hits that banger
In the upper right corner in the 92nd minute
Of the 2030 World Cup finals
And you're there in the stands
When the jumbotron pans to you! To you!
And your face is aglow
'cause the whole stadium's yelling "GOAL!"
Is that when you'll know it was worth
All the Sundays you skipped church
And the nights you washed the uniform
In the sink of the Holiday Inn in Pitt County, North Carolina
Or Murfreesboro Tennessee?
Because now you see, it's Friday night
At the sports complex in the suburbs of Atlanta
And no one is listening to coach
'cause someone cracked a fart joke
And now they're falling out of formation
And chucking balls at each other's heads
Like all the money, all the gas
All the time, all your plans
Were nothing baby, nothing at all
Goal, goal, goal!