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Goodbye Mr. Griffin

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We may feel like we got screwed in the draft lottery, but let's not forget that Blake Griffin is the true victim here.  An ode to Mister Griffin, to the tune of Night Ranger's "Sister Christian". 

 

Mister Griffin
Oh the time has come
And you know that you'll be number one
To play, in L.A.
Where you going?
What you looking for?
You know those boys
Don't want to play no more with you
It's true

You're Dunleavy’ed
That’s your draft day plight
Although it just ain’t right
You'll be a Clipper, draft night

Blake you know
You'll do as you must
And mama's worrying
That you’ll be a bust
Just say, let me play
Mister Griffin
There's so much in life

Don't you give it up
Before Simmons rips you
He's cruel
He's cruel yeah

Dunleavy'ed
Is your trade price right?
Dunleavy's got you in his sight
Ruin your career, he might
Dunleavy’ed
That’s your draft day plight
Although it just ain’t right
You'll be a Clipper, draft night


Dunleavy’ed
That’s your draft day plight
Although it just ain’t right
You'll be a Clipper, draft night


Mister Griffin
Oh the time has come
And you know that you'll be number one
To play, in L.A.
But you're Dunleavy'ed
You're Dunleavy'ed