My sister ran off with a junkie
My mother ran off with a drunk
My dog’s a two bit scaliwag leech
And my old man’s a slimebucket skunk
I’d make each one of them a mourner
If april weren’t just around the corner
Yeah you know I’d put a gun to my ear
If the sacred season weren’t almost here
My mother ran off with a drunk
My dog’s a two bit scaliwag leech
And my old man’s a slimebucket skunk
I’d make each one of them a mourner
If april weren’t just around the corner
Yeah you know I’d put a gun to my ear
If the sacred season weren’t almost here
November through march is a long time in hell
But then spring comes along to save us from our sins
With bats back swinging and line drives zinging
It’s the agony and ecstasy of losses and wins
My baby left me for an unlicensed plumber
The day after our pipes froze
I swear to God I’d seek eternal slumber
If it weren’t for those golden catches and throws
Hallelujah for baseball and the dimaggio streak
For a win by washington and every time the rangers lose
Hallelujah for the say hey kid, the big six and the freak
For ichiro’s arm and zito’s charm nixing my fixing-to-die blues
You might think you can vote with your card from the nra
And maybe they’ll give you a passport for being good with a gun
But it’s sure you got no business living here in the usa
If you won’t stand up and salute a walk-off home run
Yeah, you got no business running around with old glory
If you don’t worship at the church of the nine inning story
Now I’m happy to have a beer and a couple belts of bourbon
Hell, scratch the blood from its proceeds and I’d be ok with cocaine
But for an opium of the people our old pastime’s prime cut
Yeah, no drug or drink can do you like the national game
So while christians wait in vain for heaven to call them up
We got elysian fields right here leading to the hall of fame
Yeah, they’re waiting for their messiah to come clear the bases
While we got rapture every year from spring to fall
And you know their fishers of men could never hit our aces
Dudes dabbling in martyrdom couldn’t touch a koufax curveball
Hallelujah for baseball and the crack of the bat
For ozzie airborne and tinker to evers to chance
Hallelujah for all the lous, cy, satchel and nap
For campy and clemente and the hotbox baseline dance
Hallelujah for whitman’s “place where memory gathers”
For the rite on the diamond in the only church that matters
Encontrou algum erro na letra? Por favor envie uma correção clicando aqui!