ESPN met and agreed
We have no choice, Yank Willie
Pack your bags & rowdy friends
Less there's someone else to offend
A country boy might survive
Without a contract can not thrive
Your daddys' rolling in his grave
To think you're his namesake
Your next stop the Dixie Chicks
Tombstone say, self-inflict
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem