Stat-Padding Choke Artists

[Verse 1] Top of the rankings, but bottom in spirit, Your Number One status? No longer fear it. "Elite Americans"? Purely ironic, Total collapse, and it's purely tectonic. Good at the service, better at folding, A lead that your shaking hands weren't holding. [Chorus] Seventy-four kills, but you still found a way, To throw the whole match and your season away. The "Error Machines" with the gold on your chest, You're the eighth-best team's favorite guest. [Instrumental break] [Verse 2] Twelve-four in the first? Such a massive head-start, But "USA Tourists" just fell right apart. Twenty-six errors, unforced and pathetic, That World Number Three is simply synthetic. Good at the stats, better at failing, That eighth-seeded dragon is sailing. Fifteen to thirteen, the ultimate choke, Your legacy’s nothing but vanity smoke. [Chorus] Seventy-four kills, but you still found a way, To throw the whole match and your season away. The "Error Machines" with the gold on your chest, You're the eighth-best team's favorite guest. [Outro] Pack up the jerseys and board the next flight, The top-seeded ghost vanished from sight.