Sin of self-loathing possesseth all Jets’ eye
And all their soul and all their every part;
Even the play of the mighty Helleye,
And so it grinds inward at my heart.
Methinks no face so gracious is as false hope,
But thine finish is lacking, the truth of this account;
And but for the second line; our players be-doped**,
As they all other in all worths surmount.
But when thine mirror shows our D indeed,
Beated and chopp'd with tann'd antiquity,
Mine own love for these dudes quite contrary I read;
Jets, please go hard so the love refresh’d its bounty.
'Tis thee, Jets, to give effort for thyself you must raise,
Stripping away the dull, with good hidden game these days.
** To be fair, our D's main engines are and have been heavily damaged or otherwise compromised.
Now Jets how about we play shity and steal 2 points, at this point i'll take a win anyway we can get one. 
Oh the 80's .
