Sung to the tune of the same name by The Platters (for all of you youngsters, here's the link so that you can follow along: ) Oh-oh, yes he’s the great pretender Pretending that he’s coaching well His contract’s such he gets paid too much He’s outclassed but TAF cannot tell Oh-oh, yes he's the great pretender Adrift in a league we should own He’s played the games but to our real shame He’s brought us but one trophy home Too real is this feeling of make-believe Too real when we see what the facts can't conceal Oh, yes, to all his great defenders He’s clapping his hands like a seal He seems to be what he’s not, you see He’s wearing his hat like a clown Contending he won’t let us down Too real is this feeling of what could be Too real when we yield to teams others revere Yes he's the great pretender Winning most but not gaining ground He’s Saban’s bitch, oh to make the switch He’s bringing chagrin to our town We’re wond’ring why he’s still around
Seems I've got to have a change of scene Every night I have the strangest dreams Imprisoned by the way it could have been Left here on my own or so it seems I've got to leave before I start to scream But someone locked the door and took the key You feelin' alright? I'm not feelin' too good myself Well, you feelin' alright? I'm not feelin' too good myself Well, say, you sure took me for one big ride And even now I sit and wonder why That when I think of you I start to cry I just can't waste my time; I must keep dry Gotta stop believin' in all your lies 'Cause there's too much to do before I die You feelin' alright? I'm not feelin' too good myself Well, you feelin' alright? I'm not feelin' too good myself
