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Maybe one day my team will deserve a true romantic valentines poem. But for now, all they deserve are some bad limericks: There was a GM named Mac who never had much of a sack His drafts were so bad It drove sane Jets fans mad, Still can't believe he picked Hack! There was a head coach named Gase whose eyes did not fit his face He put Jets fans through Hell when he mis-used Lev Bell What other players will he now waste?

You are living inside a hollow ball. Your ancestors created. To take you to a new planet.

I just put two different versions of this in a playlist - The Turtles and Johnny Cash and June Carter