When I was a kid, I pretended I was Superman.
And then Batman or Spiderman.
I pretended to be Hammering Hank from Mobile.
Or the Say-Hey Kid. Even Freddie Patek.
I was Joe Willie in Super Bowl III.
I would pretend I was the King.
I’m in love baby I’m all shook up.
I was off the charts pretending to Hendrix.
After all my last name was Hayes.
They even called me that in school.
That was really cool.
Now I pretend I’m Brady.
Not because he’s a winner.
And he is simply the greatest.
You and then Montana.
No doubt in my mind.
And I know what drives Mr. Tom Brady.
The love of the game. It’s as simple as that.
And getting paid to play a game you’d play for free.
So, Brady, I’ve got a few years on you.
But I’m gonna run a post pattern.
Just throw it up.
I’ll be open bro.
I can get open one more time.
Thanks for the hope Kid.
Oh yea, think Clemson and Renfro.
Against my Tide.