There are exactly two types of people in this country: those who have belted out the lyrics to a certain gravel-throated ode to Cleveland, Ohio, and those who are about to.
The song in question has been kicking around for years, quietly metastasizing in group chats and tailgate playlists, and it has officially reached the point where strangers on the internet treat it less like a tune and more like a sacred text.
For the uninitiated, the track is basically a love letter to a city that gets dunked on by every coastal snob with a Wi-Fi connection.
It name-drops the flats, the river that famously caught fire, and the general vibe of a town that has decided to stop apologizing for existing.
The lyrics read like a barstool confession, equal parts civic pride and "yeah, we know, shut up about it." What's wild is how the thing spread.
No major label push, no late-night TV debut, just pure word-of-mouth.
Next thing you know, people in Phoenix are arguing about the correct pronunciation of "Cuyahoga" like it's a constitutional amendment.
The comment sections have turned into a full-contact sport.
Locals insist you can't truly sing it unless you've survived a lake-effect blizzard and a playoff collapse in the same calendar year.
Outsiders show up confused, asking why everyone is so emotional about a mid-tier rust belt metropolis.
Part of the appeal is that the lyrics don't try to sell you a postcard version of Cleveland.
There's no montage of the Rock Hall at golden hour, no soft-focus shot of a farmers market.
It's grit, it's gray skies, it's the specific ache of loving a place that the rest of the country treats as a punchline.
That's a universal feeling wearing a very specific municipal costume.
We're living through an era where every city is trying to rebrand itself as a tech utopia with artisanal coffee and $14 toast.
Cleveland's anthem says, essentially, we're not doing that.
We're going to drink a beer in a parking lot and sing about it.
Somehow that hits harder than any tourism board campaign ever could.
The song has also spawned a deeply unserious genre of online debate.
One guy claims it cured his homesickness, which is not a medical claim, it's just a guy being dramatic on Reddit.
Here's the thing that makes it genuinely viral-worthy: it gives people permission to be corny about where they're from.
In a culture obsessed with irony and moving away, a bunch of folks are loudly, unironically homesick for a place with bad weather and worse sports luck.
So yeah, the lyrics to a song about Cleveland have become a weird little internet sacrament.
Probably at a barbecue, probably from a guy named Dave who has strong opinions about pierogi.
The real takeaway here is that regional pride is undefeated when it's honest.
Cleveland didn't win a championship to earn this moment.
It just stopped pretending to be something it isn't, and the internet rewarded that.
Final Thoughts
Somewhere, a marketing executive is weeping into a focus group report.