You want a prediction about the weather Sunday, you’re asking the wrong Phil. I’ll give you a Sunday prediction: It’s gonna be cold, it’s gonna be grey, and it’s gonna last you for the rest of your life. -Phil Connors
Oh the weather outside is frightful But the Chiefs are so delightful And Manning's got no place to go Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!!
Oh, it doesn't show signs of stopping And I've bought some corn for popping, Lighting a joint with Bowe Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!
When we finally reach the night How Manning hates going out in the storm But if you can hit him and fight All the way on the bench he'll be warm.
bronco spirit is slowly dying And, my dear, the Chiefs D's still denying And with the final sack by Poe Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!