Do not cry, mother, for football is not war.
We do not carry arms against the less fortunate
Or shoot amongst the crowd
And the divided sides are not nations
But boys that thought playing a game
Made them men.
Do not cry, mother.
Football is not war.
Yelling men, beer overflowing, we enter the arena,
Rage filled eyes, black war paint, but football is not war.
These boys were made to break but they’ve been bending their whole lives.
Glory awaits for those whose colors stand high in blood tides.
Fight for the man whose branded you
Your helmet his homage.
Do not cry mother.
Football is not war
Do not cry, mother, for football is not war.
Because I choice this path, it averted me from the slums
Sweat filled my eyes better than tears
A belly of blood was full at last
Grass fields I wished I could die on,
Over the streets that claimed young lives.
Do not cry mother.
Football is not war.
Do not cry, mother, for football is not war.
There’s whistles, balls, and bright colors,
It’s an arcade game I swear.
Forget the diagnose, broken bones, and drug abuse
CTE is not PTSD
And I’d choose this half life over and over again
Do not cry mother
Football is not war.
Mother whose heart stops when I crumble.
Who wonders, maybe this time I’ll stay down.
Do not cry mother.
Football is not war.
