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Once upon a time
Some quarter century ago
I donned my oversized suit
And shoes two sizes to large for my feet.
Headed toward a climax, and prayed
That might end in a victory.
The thrill of the Friday night lights
In every little Georgia town.
Would reveal where every man, woman, and child
Could always on Friday night be found.
No matter if the economy is bad
Or the townspeople sad or full of glee.
They'd all head toward the 8 pm lights
Some maybe hoping to see even me.
Later to anxiously read the Saturday morning paper
The obituaries, then the comics, then the news.
But they'd all end up on the sporting page
The Friday night games to peruse.
Even though they already knew the outcome
They relished to relive the damage that was done.
Such it is with the life and simple rural treats
And this was half of the fun.
It really was the toast of a weekend, and yes is was
life for the simple and meek.
Whether it ended in a victory
Or by chance it ended in defeat.
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