The snow is blowing in my Nebraska home
I’m cooped inside with a gimpy knee
But never fear – I’m not alone
The Iditabuds are here with me.
I sit and watch the lead change hands
It’s Martin—It’s Aliy—It’s Mitch this time
It’s so confusing for us fans
No pattern, no clue, no reason or rhyme
It makes an exciting last great race
When we don’t know what will happen next
Can we keep up this frenzied pace
Of following those marks on the GPS?