O Cris Collinsworth,
Cris Collinsworth
As your hair reaches up to Heaven
And your voice rumbles down toward Hell
You show me things about offensive lines
I could not alone be able to tell.
Cris Collinsworth, you exemplify
What it means to be a color guy
Illuminating what otherwise
Would completely fail to catch my eyes.
O Cris Collinsworth,
Cris Collinsworth
When you broadcast games on Sunday nights
My heart you most sincerely gladden
I am not able to thank you enough
For being much less annoying than Madden.
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