The clock's running down The team's losing ground To the opposing defense The young quarterback Waits for the snap When suddenly it all starts to make sense
He's got all kinds of time He's got all kinds of time All kinds of time He's got all kinds of time All kinds of time
He takes a step back He's under attack But he knows that no one can touch him now He seems so at ease A strange inner peace Is all that he's feeling somehow
He's got all kinds of time He's got all kinds of time All kinds of time He's got all kinds of time All kinds of time
He thinks of his mother He thinks of his bride-to-be He thinks of his father His two younger brothers Gathered around the widescreen TV
He looks to the left He looks to the right And there in a golden ray of light Is his open man Just like he planned The whole world is his tonight
