It Takes a Parking Lot With a Mayor To Laugh, It Takes a Trade To Cry
Well, I ride on a BART train, baby,
Make at least three mill.
Well, I've been up all night, baby,
Warmin' up on the bullpen hill.
Well, if high flies
Are hit off of my pill
And if I don't save it,
You know that Ziggy will.
[Original lyrics here.]
[Full Poetic Interlude after the jump.]
Don't my slider look good, mama,
Swingin' through strike threes?
Don't the second baseman look good, mama,
Socks hiked up to his knees?
Wouldn't Adam Dunn look good
Battin' for us (but not playin' D)?
Don't you love my pal Devine
When he's comin' in after me?
Now the wintertime is coming,
The roster is reviewed by Forst.
He wants to trade everybody,
Send me to the state of La Crosse.
Well, I wanna be your closer, baby,
I don't wanna be your sunk cost.
Don't say I never warned you
When your games get lost.