Lirik Lagu The Lonesome Kicker - Adam Sandler
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Me, I'm the Lonesome KickerExtra points, field goals at your serviceOne might think it comes with gloryYou might think different after you listen to my story
My helmet is equipped with a tiny face maskWhat it possibly could protect, I do not knowThe other guys on the teamLike to make fun of my little shoulder padsAnd also like to hide the special shoeI need to kick in the snow
People think it's so easyTo kick a field goal from the 30 yard lineThey forget to add seven yards for the snapAnd 10 more 'cause the goal posts are pushed way back
In 1974, the uprights were right on the goal lineBut some of the players were running into themAnd getting hurtSo screw the kickerWho cares about the kicker?
But I kick that ballAnd I pray it goes straightIf it doesThe coach says "Good job, number 8"He doesn't even know my name isAndre Kristacovitchlalinski, Jr.But that's the life I liveThe Lonesome Kicker
Kickoffs can be so very scaryEspecially, if the returner breaks on throughAnd I'm the only guy on the playing field left to tackle himI don't want to get hurtSo I pretend to tie my shoe
Once again, I'm ignored by my teammates and all my coaches"Go back where you came from!"Scream 70,000 fansWell, I know I could win their love backBy catching a winning touch-downBut, unfortunately, I was born with these very small hands
And I hope that the cameras don't come in too close'Cause they might see the tears in my eyesAs I sit on this bench made of cold-hearted woodAnd the splinters go deep in my thighsAnd the towel boy snickers as he walks byThe Lonesome Kicker
Another blocked kickAnd everybody blames meBut it was the Left GuardWho didn't pick up his manOh, why can't they see...
In my home countryI could have been a minor league soccer playerBut I came to AmericaSeeking fortune and seeking fameI didn't realize that if I shanked oneAnd blew the point spreadSome drunk guys would push me into their hibachiAfter the game
So I go home at night'Cause I never get invitedTo go drinking with the other guysAnd I sit in my chair, and I soak my footAs I eat a plate of cold french friesAnd my wife's out with her quote-unquote friendAnd my son can't look me in the eyesBut that's the life I liveThe Lonesome Kicker
Kicking for youThey took my snow shoeThey're going for two
My helmet is equipped with a tiny face maskWhat it possibly could protect, I do not knowThe other guys on the teamLike to make fun of my little shoulder padsAnd also like to hide the special shoeI need to kick in the snow
People think it's so easyTo kick a field goal from the 30 yard lineThey forget to add seven yards for the snapAnd 10 more 'cause the goal posts are pushed way back
In 1974, the uprights were right on the goal lineBut some of the players were running into themAnd getting hurtSo screw the kickerWho cares about the kicker?
But I kick that ballAnd I pray it goes straightIf it doesThe coach says "Good job, number 8"He doesn't even know my name isAndre Kristacovitchlalinski, Jr.But that's the life I liveThe Lonesome Kicker
Kickoffs can be so very scaryEspecially, if the returner breaks on throughAnd I'm the only guy on the playing field left to tackle himI don't want to get hurtSo I pretend to tie my shoe
Once again, I'm ignored by my teammates and all my coaches"Go back where you came from!"Scream 70,000 fansWell, I know I could win their love backBy catching a winning touch-downBut, unfortunately, I was born with these very small hands
And I hope that the cameras don't come in too close'Cause they might see the tears in my eyesAs I sit on this bench made of cold-hearted woodAnd the splinters go deep in my thighsAnd the towel boy snickers as he walks byThe Lonesome Kicker
Another blocked kickAnd everybody blames meBut it was the Left GuardWho didn't pick up his manOh, why can't they see...
In my home countryI could have been a minor league soccer playerBut I came to AmericaSeeking fortune and seeking fameI didn't realize that if I shanked oneAnd blew the point spreadSome drunk guys would push me into their hibachiAfter the game
So I go home at night'Cause I never get invitedTo go drinking with the other guysAnd I sit in my chair, and I soak my footAs I eat a plate of cold french friesAnd my wife's out with her quote-unquote friendAnd my son can't look me in the eyesBut that's the life I liveThe Lonesome Kicker
Kicking for youThey took my snow shoeThey're going for two
