by Hart Seely
The AL East, it is exploding,
Tampa flarin’, Toronto loadin.’
Your stopper is so old, his slider’s floatin’
You don’t believe in waste, yet Vernon Wells you’re totin,’
And even the Captain’s ankle still aint stopped bloatin’…
But you tell me…
Over and over and over again, my friend
We’re not totally whacked…
By A-Rod’s pact…
Of Destruction.
Don’t you understand what I’m tryin’ to say?
Can’t you see the lineup starring Lyle Overbay?
If Robbie tweaks a hammy, there’ll be no one to play,
We’ll have run out of tricks, we’ll be using Jason Nix
Take a look around ya, pal!
It’s bound to scare ya, Hal!
And you tell me
Over and over and over again, my friend
We’re not in the grip…
Of A-Rod’s hip
Reconstruction.
Yeah, my blood’s so mad feels like coagulatin’
I’m sitting here, still Michael Pineda-waitin,’
I’m lookin’ at this team, I see no domination.
Damn Youkilis at third, there is no explanation!
And David Phelps alone can’t save our rotation
When even the Scranton roster is disintegratin’
This whole Cashman death wish thing is just too frustratin!’
And you tell me
Over and over and over again, my friend
We’re not under the wheel
Of A-Rod’s deal…
Of de-struk-shuuuuuuun.