Dear Coach's Corner Lyrics

Dear Ron MacLean

Dear Coach’s Corner

I’m writing in order for someone to explain to my niece the distinction

Between these mandatory pre-game group rites of submission

And the rallies at Nuremburg

Specifically the function the ritual serves

In conjunction with what everybody knows is in the end a kid’s game

I’m just appealing to your sense of fair play

When I say she’s puzzled by the incessant pressure for her

To not defy the collective will, and yellow ribboned lapels

As the soldiers inexplicably rappel down from the arena rafters

(Which, if not so insane, would be grounds for screaming laughter)

Dear Ron MacLean, I wouldn’t bother with these questions

If I didn’t sense some spiritual connection

We may not be the same but it’s not like we’re from different planets

We both love this game so much we can hardly fucking stand it

Alberta-born and prairie-raised

Seems like there ain’t a sheet of ice north of Fargo I ain’t played

From Penhold to the Gatineau, every fond memory of childhood

That I know is somehow connected to the culture of this game

I can’t just let it go

But I guess it comes down to what kind of world you want to live in

And if diversity is disagreement, and disagreement is treason

Well don’t be surprised if we find ourselves reaping a strange

And bitter fruit that sad old man beside you keeps feeding to young minds as virtue

It takes a village to raise a child but just a flag to raze the children

Until they’re nothing more than ballast for fulfilling a madman’s dream of a paradise Where complexity is reduced to black and white

How do I protect her from this cult of death