Rise and shine, it’s tailgate time

Sunday morning breakfast, Corona and lime

Grab a wad of cash, a big fat stack

Buddy has the Boxer, a 30-rack

394 slip in, worked like a pro

A fluffy pillow on the skyline, a glimpse of the dome

9AM shines the clock, all lots chalk full

Minnesota in December, socks made of wool

PA on the dial, telling me how it is

Reach into my back pocket for a tin of Griz

Grilling meat, guzzling liquor and beer

Plus a small sip of Everclear

Piss drunk, tickets get scanned, honor red white and blue

Hike up the stairs, search for our seats, obstructed view

Can’t see the field behind this pole

Can’t afford tickets in the lower bowl

Stuck watching the game on the Jumbotron

Not a damn clue what’s going on

Squint to see the screens, a difficult task

Might as well just finish my flask

Halftime hits, Vikes up a score

Wait to take a leak on a sticky floor

Round the corner to see that glorious trough

Step up for a piss, won’t make it back for kickoff

Back to the concourse, hop in line for a dog

Packers fan in front of me, the gal is a hog

Stumble back to my seat, friends nowhere to be found

Call em on my cell, but can’t hear a sound

Went up the wrong section, have a seat on the stairs

Family to my left, giving em a scare

Eyes on the fellas, just two sections over

Spotted some open seats and the boys went rover

Game is finished, everybody leaves in mass

My hat blows off, gotta chase it like an ass

Too drunk to drive, take the light rail home

Vikings win, just another day at the dome