by Hart Seely
There was a House that Ruth Built
Beloved throughout the town.
It didn’t please the millionaires,
And so they tore it down.
It didn’t have a steak house.
No discos could be found.
The catered boxes were too few,
And so they tore it down.
They wailed about necessity,
Each face portrayed a frown,
But ticket prices were too low,
And so they tore it down.
They cried about tradition.
Great anguish, all around.
But money calls the shots these days,
And so they tore it down.
They’ll tell you how the clubhouse stank,
From sewers underground.
They never thought of fixing things.
They simply tore it down.
Oh, somewhere, fans still celebrate,
Great ballparks of renown.
There’ll be no joy in Mudville.
They went and tore it down.
Posted 9/22/08