By Stuart Shea
He can hit so nice.
Looks like he’s going to lose his mind
If Jeff Kent keeps striking out
On balls on the borderline.
The only ones who understand,
They break our heart but we renew…
‘Cause true blue, baby, we love you.
Some teams chase me, some teams beg me
I think they’re OK,
But if they don’t give ten-year contracts,
I’ll just walk away
They can beg and they can plead
But they can’t make me sign (they whine)
That GM with cold hard cash
Will always bend his spine, he will because we’re
Living in a material game
And I have a material name
You know that we are living in a material game
And I have a material name.
Published in Chicago Cubs, Colorado Rockies, Los Angeles Dodgers, Songs and Parodies, Stu Shea | Link to this poem | No Comments