~ Armchair Quarterback ~
Well, the season's finally here and the players hit the field and every man feels like a boy and every wife could kill. He's been buying beer since August, running hot and running cold and thirty friends are on alert . . . that's all the den will hold!
‘Cause he's the Armchair Quarterback; he's full of beer and he’s full of snacks. The all-American man, with a cool one in his hand. The Armchair Quarterback; he's kind of fun and he’s kind of fat. The all-American man, with a cool one in his hand.
Well, if you stand and block the screen, you may just lose your life and that goes for all thirty friends and the thirty friends' wives. Then the den falls silent, we just need a yard or two. They wouldn't change that channel now if the Rockettes came on nude. The announcer agrees with the referee but the den does not at all. And thirty fists are clenched in hate and pound upon the wall. Why any fool could see he made that first down when he dived! If Howard Cosell came in now, he'd never get out alive.
'Cause he's the Armchair Quarterback; he's full of beer and he’s full of snacks. The all-American man, with a cool one in his hand. The wives are all disgusted and they're meeting in the yard on their way to wear the numbers off our credit cards. He's got his six year old son, Billy, sittin' on the floor. Watching college wrap-up and writing down the scores. There stands Uncle Andy bending empty cans. "For God sakes, Andy, get that cool one out of Billy's hand!"
Well, what do you know, its halftime. Where's the bathroom? Tell me, please. Don't go outside, 'cause the neighbor’s dog’s biting everything he sees. Well, if they make it through the Super Bowl, well, she'll be happy then, 'cause she'll get back her TV and he'll give up the den. He'll be tired and incoherent and he will not know his name. But he'll lift one eyelid just to say, "Wake me up for the ol' score game!" with a cool one in his hand.
Broken pretzels in the rug. The beer cans could be worse. She'll clean it up tomorrow and dread September first when once again...ha ha... The season's finally here and the players hit the field. And every man feels like a boy and every wife could kill. He's been buying beer since August, running hot and running cold. And thirty friends are on alert...that's all the den will hold.
He's the Armchair Quarterback; he's full of beer and full of snacks. The all-American man, with a cool one in his hand. Yeah, the Armchair Quarterback; he's kind of fun and he’s kind of fat. The all-American man, with a cool one in his hand . . .
Performed by
Ray Stevens
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© Denim & Lace 2007
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Copyright: This page is a free site and the music was recorded from an album purchased by the page owner. This music is to be used for personal use only and under no circumstances can be used for commercial purposes, in any form whatsoever.
Graphic and animation by Sandy
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