Yesterday's entry was a bit grim, so I decided to head in the opposite direction today. I quickly ended up in a grammatical quandary when I tried to figure out whether "Purple" referred to the people or the hater; in the end, I decided to honor the original intent of the song and made the adjective nearest "Gator" modify "Gator" and made the one before that modify "Hater." I also decided to not punctuate this any more than I did naturally since I'm lazy the song is so fast-paced that it doesn't always slow for pauses anyway. Now that the English major in me has justified its choices, on to the song.

More people are probably familiar with this than they were with yesterday's entry, but I've still included two videos because the karaoke version is kind of crummy I'm a generous soul. Perhaps this entry is a little overly optimistic; feel free to doubt as much as you want. With apologies to Sheb Wooley:

The purple people eater KARAOKE VERSION (via tigscomedysongs)

Here's the karaoke version. I apologize for the poor quality, but it's the only one I could find.

The Flying Purple People Eater (via DirectorDME)

Here's the original song, complete with charming illustrations (one of which bears a passing resemblance to Jeff Driskel).

Gallant Gamy Gator Haters

Well I saw this team running out on the field;

it looked so well-made that the win was sealed.

I commenced to yellin' and I called the Dawgs

and cheered for the gamy Gator hater Bulldogs.

They were well-coached, well-bred gallant gamy gator haters,

(well-coached, well-bred gallant gamy gator haters),

well-coached, well-bred gallant gamy gator haters,

sure looked good to me. (Well-coached!)

The Gators came on the field and they met the Dawg D.

They said, "Mr. Gamy Gator Hater, don't beat me."

I heard Grantham say in a voice so gruff,

"A sack on every play wouldn't be enough."

They were well-coached, well-bred gallant gamy gator haters,

(well-coached, well-bred gallant gamy gator haters),

well-coached, well-bred gallant gamy gator haters,

on our Bulldog D. (Well-bred!)

Another gamy gator hater runs offense;

he said, "Hating gamy gators is sure intense.

My hatred's the reason I can't settle for kicks;

each Bulldog drive will end in the end-zone for six."

"Bless you, Bobo; you're no dodo, gallant gamy gator hater.

Scoring-spree, wilddawg-free, gallant gamy gator hater."

(Gators wear short jorts!)

A pack of gamy gator haters,

what a sight to see! (Woof!)

Well, we ran young Crowell and we lit up the board;

we beat them so bad in manner untoward.

It was four crazy quarters with a bonus boon:

Orson Charles accidentally backed into Corch Boom.

Brantley bruised; Bulldogs cruised, gallant gamy gator haters.

Frontbutt failed; Dawgs prevailed, gallant gamy gator haters.

 (Gators wear jort shorts!)

Gallant gamy gator haters.

Scoreboard looked sweet to me. (Beat the Gators!)

Coach Richt kept piling on, and knew just what to do

as he cruised on to victory one hundred and two.

He was blowin' ‘em out and could've bled the clock dead

but then he called back-to-back-to-back timeouts instead.

[Redcoat band plays "Glory, Glory"]

Marijuana!

via media.tripod.lycos.com