by Wet Luzinski
Truckin’, season tix cash in. Keep truckin’, for the boo-in’ fan
Clearwooder, yeah dat weather’s fine, just keep truckin’ on.
Arrows all point that the Phils won’t get back to the playoffs
Texas, San Fran, Detroit will go back to the playoffs
Your typical team enmeshed in its annual pipe dream
Win it all now and to hell with tomorrow’s rings.
Atlanta’s got the Upton bros; the Nats are full of upstart woes;
New York’s got D’Arnaud for years; but that debt wont let them be, oh no.
Most of the fans that you meet on this site use advanced stats,
Most of the time they’re sittin’ and typin’ at home
One of these days they’ll find the numbers tell true lies
And they’re better off watchin’ the game with their two eyes.
Truckin’, for the boo-in’ fan. The ones that bought a Sunday plan
Sometimes they ain’t worth a dump, when Lannan’s on the bump
Sometimes I listen to Dubya-Eye-Pee;
It gets me so mad I can barely see.
Lately it occurs to me, what a long, five years it’s been.
What in the world ever happened to Roy H?
He lost his heater, you know he isn’t the same
Chooch’s performance enhancin’ was so lame
All we can do now is wait for the 51st game.
Truckin’, down to Clearwooder, been thinkin’, got to get younger
Takes time, you pick a first-round stud, and just keep truckin’ on.
Sittin’ and starin’ out at the feed of my Twitt stream
Gelb got a tip that RAJ gotta deal again
I’d like a young guy who’s got a shred of talent
But if there’s a true vet, I guess he’s gonna come in.
Defense, down the outfield lines, moves slow, like a bowlin’ pin
E-5, gets to wearin’ thin. You just won’t wanna see, oh no.
He’s sick of losin’ again and he’d like to go tradin’;
Gets tired of tradin’ and he wants to develop the farm.
I guess they can’t fire Amaro for tryin’
He’s got some Plans B, and I guess they’re all pretty sound.
Sometimes I listen to Dubya-Eye-Pee;
Other times, Mike Missannell-eeee;
Lately it occurs to me, what a long, five years it’s been.
Truckin’, I’m a rollin’ South. whoa whoa baby, to where the Phils’ fountain
De Leon’s, gotta patch old bones, and get back truckin’ on.