Me, I'm the Lonesome Kicker 
Extra points, field goals at your service 
One might think it comes with glory 
You might think different after you listen to my story 

My helmet is equipped with a tiny face mask 
What it possibly could protect, I do not know 
The other guys on the team 
Like to make fun of my little shoulder pads 
And also like to hide the special shoe 
I need to kick in the snow 

People think it's so easy 
To kick a field goal from the 30 yard line 
They forget to add seven yards for the snap 
And 10 more 'cause the goal posts are pushed way back 

In 1974, the uprights were right on the goal line 
But some of the players were running into them 
And getting hurt 
So screw the kicker 
Who cares about the kicker? 

But I kick that ball 
And I pray it goes straight 
If it does 
The coach says "Good job, number 8" 
He doesn't even know my name is 
Andre Kristacovitchlalinski, Jr. 
But that's the life I live 
The Lonesome Kicker 

Kickoffs can be so very scary 
Especially, if the returner breaks on through 
And I'm the only guy on the playing field left to tackle him 
I don't want to get hurt 
So I pretend to tie my shoe 

Once again, I'm ignored by my teammates and all my coaches 
"Go back where you came from!" 
Scream 70,000 fans 
Well, I know I could win their love back 
By catching a winning touch-down 
But, unfortunately, I was born with these very small hands 

And I hope that the cameras don't come in too close 
'Cause they might see the tears in my eyes 
As I sit on this bench made of cold-hearted wood 
And the splinters go deep in my thighs 
And the towel boy snickers as he walks by 
The Lonesome Kicker 

Another blocked kick 
And everybody blames me 
But it was the Left Guard 
Who didn't pick up his man 
Oh, why can't they see... 

In my home country 
I could have been a minor league soccer player 
But I came to America 
Seeking fortune and seeking fame 
I didn't realize that if I shanked one 
And blew the point spread 
Some drunk guys would push me into their hibachi 
After the game 

So I go home at night 
'Cause I never get invited 
To go drinking with the other guys 
And I sit in my chair, and I soak my foot 
As I eat a plate of cold french fries 
And my wife's out with her quote-unquote friend 
And my son can't look me in the eyes 
But that's the life I live 
The Lonesome Kicker 

Kicking for you 
They took my snow shoe 
They're going for two