What a Game

You'll like Baseball It's a civilized pastime In a World gone mad There is comfort to be had In the game Father played at school Men of class Competing on the grass Where sportsmanship And fellowship And courtesy are the rule PLAY BALL Ain't this the kind of weather For smackin leather For playin Baseball The kind of weather makes a man Hit Like Hell HOCK PTOOY Let's go you sons of bitches Let's see some pitches Let's play some Baseball The Kraut is strikin out again Shmidt, you smell! The Giants havn't got a pray'r Ahh your underwear Up your alley Go back to where your mother once came Hit That Ball Run you Bastard Hit That Ball Kill the Kraut WHAT GAME HOCK PTOOY Hey schnabel, take your head out of your ass!! Heh, I guess that's tellin him huh HEY SCHNABEL TAKE YOUR HEAD OUT OF YOUR Mmph At Harvard we were gentlemen Men were gentlemen SO'S YOUR SISTER We called each other mister and DOYLE, YA SUCK Don't Listen Our games were very quiet We'd never Riot We'd EAT THAT BASEBALL The worst we'd ever said would be RUN, YA SCHMUCK Don't Listen Now here's this noisy rabble This foreign babble Who let this happen There's hardly one american name YAH HERZOG Hit That Ball Stupid Pollack Hit That Ball Kill the Kike! WHAT GAME It's Braves and Giants Two to Two The Pitchers name is Hub Perdue Jack Murray's now up at bat *Ball gets hit, gasps and awes* My god would somebody look at that! Ain't this the kind of weather to get together and BASH HIS TEETH IN The kind of weather makes a man Hit Like Hell A find uplifting atmosphere Bring your children here Teach them Baseball The game all true Americans Do Damn Well It's like the constitution The institution Of dear old Baseball Where every man is trated the same Kill That Mick Run you Pollack Strike The Kike Kill the Krout What A What A What A Up your alley Edgar! Game! HOCK PTOOY YEAH!!