Fall of the Star High School Running Back

Sophomore year
 You rushed for an average of eight and third yards per carry
 All eyes were on you
 Junior year
 You blew your knee out at an out town game
 Nowhere to go but down, down, down
 Nothing but the ground left for you to fall to
 By July
 You'd made a whole bunch of brand new friends
 People you used to look down on
 And you'd figured out a way to make real money
 Giving ends to your friends and it felt stupendous
 Chrome spokes on your Japanese bike
 But selling acid was a bad idea
 And selling it to a cop was a worse one
 And the new law said that seventeen year olds could do federal time
 You were the first one
 So I sing this song for you
 William Stanaforth Donahue
 Your grandfather rode the boat over from Ireland
 But you made a bad decision or two