Bard from Google. I mean, it’s pretty good
In
Neyland's grand and storied scene,Where Vols and Bulldogs oft convene,A tale of woe, of hopes undone,Of Tennessee's defeat, by thirty run.
The Vols, with pride and hopes held high,Took to the field, beneath the sky,Their fans all cheered, their spirits soared,But on that day, their dreams were gored.
The Bulldogs, strong and fierce they stood,Their defense stout, their offense good,They pounced upon the Vols like prey,And made them rue that fateful day.
The Vols, they fought, they tried their best,But Bulldogs' dominance, it couldn't suppress,The scoreboard filled with Georgia's might,While Tennessee's dreams took wounded flight.
The clock it ticked, the minutes waned,The Vols' defeat, it couldn't be restrained,Thirty points the gap, a chasm wide,The Vols' hopes crushed, their pride defiled.
Oh, Tennessee, your faithful cried,Your mighty team, it couldn't hide,From Georgia's wrath, its power grand,Your hopes were dashed, across the land.
And Brock Bowers, the Bulldog's pride,His touchdown grabs, they couldn't hide,He soared through Vols' defense with ease,Bringing Big Orange to their knees.
The Vols, they faltered, lost their stride,As Brock Bowers' catches took their pride,The Bulldogs' dominance, it couldn't be denied,While Tennessee's hopes forever died
In
Neyland's grand and storied scene,Where Vols and Bulldogs oft convene,A tale of woe, of hopes undone,Of Tennessee's defeat, by thirty run.
The Vols, with pride and hopes held high,Took to the field, beneath the sky,Their fans all cheered, their spirits soared,But on that day, their dreams were gored.
The Bulldogs, strong and fierce they stood,Their defense stout, their offense good,They pounced upon the Vols like prey,And made them rue that fateful day.
The Vols, they fought, they tried their best,But Bulldogs' dominance, it couldn't suppress,The scoreboard filled with Georgia's might,While Tennessee's dreams took wounded flight.
The clock it ticked, the minutes waned,The Vols' defeat, it couldn't be restrained,Thirty points the gap, a chasm wide,The Vols' hopes crushed, their pride defiled.
Oh, Tennessee, your faithful cried,Your mighty team, it couldn't hide,From Georgia's wrath, its power grand,Your hopes were dashed, across the land.
And Brock Bowers, the Bulldog's pride,His touchdown grabs, they couldn't hide,He soared through Vols' defense with ease,Bringing Big Orange to their knees.
The Vols, they faltered, lost their stride,As Brock Bowers' catches took their pride,The Bulldogs' dominance, it couldn't be denied,While Tennessee's hopes forever died
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