Doeren and Bailey
Ranging from mediocre to fail-y
They make $8 million a year
Which is a little too much I fear
For embarrassing State on the daily
The Mets fell apart
State is a collective fart
The Dolphins are a punchline
The Scooters stepped on a landmine
Why do I do this to my heart?
Uncanny and sublime
Full of an eerie grime
A lost treasure from M. Night
Is certain to give you a fright
Where has "Servant" been all this time?
Choke jobs and strife
Just twist in the knife
A perpetual national joke
But when your clear the smoke
What's left is just that Pack life
A trip out Midwest way
May be what we need today
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