Wreck of KC Taylor

The legend lives on from Lake Waldo on down
Of the runner they call KC Taylor
KC, it is said, will talk smack till he’s dead
Or until Joni gets mad and turns gloomy.

With a full load of bull - many many times more
Than any runner you’ve seen, except Bosworth
Other runners it’s true were just bones to be chewed
When KC kicked ass and took numbers.

KC had no pride, some grown men even cried
When KC decided to tease them.
As the big blowhards go he was louder than most
With the women his favorite targets.

Concluding some strides with Al at his side
He set out expecting to beat them
But a few miles in, rigor mortis set in
Could it be lack of training he’s feeling.

The footsteps behind made a tattletale sound
As mile twenty three he approached slowly
And every man knew, as Captain Cully did, too,
T'was the witch of Salem come stealing.

It dawned on him late and his break couldn’t wait
As KC’s runnin’ turned into slow walkin’
When reality came he was in too much pain
To do much but stand and stop talkin’.

With a pat of his butt the old chick made it plain
That with KC she would not be staying
The Boom that was heard, it knocked Case to the curb
She ran past with her arms raised in vict’ry.

When he was done with his walk, KC glanced at the clock
And the news didn’t start with a two.
And after that race when his friends he would face
Came the wreck of the great KC Taylor.

Does anyone know where the love of God goes
When the race turns the minutes to hours
The coaches all say he'd have made the Steph pay
If only he’d started out slower.

He might have given up or he might have just bonked
‘Cause he forgot to take Gu and drink water
But all that remains is the pain and the shame
Of getting chicked by a girl named of Snyder.

Dynamite booms, the Stephinator sings
In his mind now while KC is runnin’
Old KC still steams like a young man with dreams,
But the memory continues to haunt him.

He must shake off this gloom cause a rematch it looms
On the hills of the race they call Zena
And KC now trains, his boom to regain
With the heels of Stephie remembered.

By a rustic old church in Eugene KC runs
At the corner of Loraine and Bailey
The church bell chimed, 'til it rang 26 times
For each mile KC averaged 7.

The legend lives on from Lake Waldo on down
Of the runner they call KC Taylor
KC, it is said, will talk smack till he’s dead
Or until Joni gets mad and turns gloomy.