By James Finn Garner
Sung to the tune of “Centerfold” by the J. Geils Band
Stumblin’ down on Rush Street, walkin’ pub to pub
Harry Caray was the idol of every Bleacher Bum
Started in St. Louis, but seduced the owner’s wife
Then Chisox, then the Cubbies — a checkered, blesséd life
Then MLB tries some tricks
During the “Field of Dreams”
And ghostly Harry resurrects
To gasps and chokes and screams….
.   Cub Fan, Bud Man
.   This ain’t worth a tinker’s damn
.   Harry lives in a hologram
.   (Harry lives in a hologram)
.   Cub Fan, Bud Man
.   This ain’t worth a tinker’s damn
.   Harry lives in a hologram
.   (Harry lives in a hologram)
He’s leading the seventh inning stretch, the weak of heart begin to retch
Beer gut missing around his middle, where’s the liver spots, sweat and spittle?
There’s no way to digitize a glorious mess like Harry
Please find some breathing pitchman and let the dead stay buried.
He’s been dead since ’98,
But you could never tell
Thanks, computer science,
But he never looked THIS well…
.   Cub Fan, Bud Man
.   This ain’t worth a tinker’s damn
.   Harry lives in a hologram
.   (Harry lives in a hologram)
.   Cub Fan, Bud Man
.   This ain’t worth a tinker’s damn
.   Harry lives in a hologram
.   (Harry lives in a hologram)
Na na na-na-na-na
Na-na-na nanna na na-na
Na na na-na-na-na
Na-na-na nanna na na-na…