Taking Dad to a Game
The Polo Grounds, when the Field’s first seen
are a most magical shade of green.
Hand in hand, me and my Dad
head for our seats in the right field stands.
It’s the Cincinnati Reds in town
to play the New York Mets.
There’s a double header scheduled,
How much better could it get?
Cincinnati took the first game
by a score of three to nil.
My hot dog was delicious
Dad had a beer to swill.
The nightcap was a wild affair
The Mets won thirteen- twelve.
You could look it up, as Casey said,
if you should care to delve.
We rode the subway home that night
side by side, me and my Dad.
We reminisced about the game
Like the most knowledgeable fans
The Q44 from Flushing took us
up Queensboro Hill, ,
past Carvel and Booth Memorial,
I remember it well still.
My father turned to look at me
as five decades creased my brow.
Making us the self same age
What he was then, so I am now.
Thirty years, about, its been
Since last I saw my Dad.
The dead don't get to baseball games,
Which I think is rather sad.
They can't enjoy a summer night
on the wrong side of the grass.
And an ice cold beer is greatly missed-
They can't pour themselves a glass
In memory, we still can walk
With those who came before.
So I took my Dad to a baseball game
What was I waiting for?
poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Definitions As An Intention To Describe
Definitions as an intention to describe,
Can be so confining to the mind.
Case in point...
Having to 'some' a meaning.
But...
To those probing their observations,
Making little sense to make sensible...
A reason to find a rhyme.
I remember when I heard the term,
'Baseball' used.
And when I went to my first game,
I was not overwhelmed with excitement.
I couldn't get the 'bat' out of my head.
'Why isn't this game called 'Batball'...
Instead of baseball? '
I kept thinking of that.
Without the bat,
There wouldn't be any baseball played.
Unlike basket...ball.
I can understand that.
Foot...ball,
Okay...
I'm sold.
Base...ball?
And all that the bases do,
Is just lay there?
Home...plate?
That's not a home...base?
And the hitting of a 'homerun'...
That's out of the field of play?
Whoever created this game,
Is a genius.
The terms used as they are applied,
Makes absolutely no sense.
I can understand,
Why it's one of the most favorite sports.
Like golf!
When a player hits that ball,
That might endanger onlookers...
A shouting of 'fore' is heard.
Fore...what?
If one is hit...
Be-fore the word is heard,
That's it.
And even after 'fore'...
What difference does it make?
The other day...
I watched a player of 'baseball' lose his bat.
It went flying into the stadium...
To hit someone in the head.
No one warned the 'victim' at all.
No one shouted...
'Watch 'that'.
It's a flying bat.'
Hmmm...
Flying bats?
At a baseball game?
Where the selling of hot...dogs,
And pea...nuts with beer...
Is a tradition.
And someone wishes to keep the writing of poetry,
To restrictions?
By whose definition?
And when does prose not become poetry?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Seven
From the time his boy could stand
The Dad had brought him on the Seven.
To see the Mets they both would go,
before he'd even learned to throw.
All through his childhood and past his teens.
They'd entrain to their field of dreams.
Their Mets found many ways to lose-
most years they had godawful teams.
So soon it was his time to go.
Children grow (Time flies they say) -
His son now has his place downtown
A few short miles and a world away.
Opening day is magical
once more it found them in the stands
Cheering loud, their voices hoarse,
as their team booked yet another loss.
After the excitement of the game
waiting on the platform for their trains
The two men hugged with obvious affection,
then entrained in opposite directions.
poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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She Loved To Watch Him Play
she never missed a practice
never missed a game
sat there watching
yelling his name
baseball, soccer, basketball too
she was always there
cheering him on
win or lose she didnt care
he was her little boy
he loved to play
she loved to watch him
even far away
for 12 years she was
at every game
always watching
yelling his name
then 1 day
he asked her not to come
he loved her
he would always be her son
he said other parents
never come
and he didnt want to have
the only one
he said he was a grown
man now
doesnt want his mom
around now
she said
ok
i wont embarrass you
that way
a few years later
he walks to the mound
looks at the bleachers
he hears a familiar sound
then he sees her
watching his game
sitting there patiently
yelling his name
he smiles real big
tips his hat
throws the ball
right past the bat
after the game
he runs to the stand
looking at his mom
she waves her hand
he runs past the fence
around the post
then realizes it was
his moms ghost
she never missed a practice
never missed a game
sat there watching
yelling his name
poem by Sandy Nobody
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Meaningful Games 2
Meaningful games
The air of September has turned crisp and clean,
with a hint of past autumns remembered,
as I take the field with the rest of the team
to battle the other contender.
Just like a knuckleball released to the plate
Our season has seemed to meander
In May we seemed sure of a World Series date-
But now the blogs call us pretenders.
The lead we enjoyed in June and July
has steadily melted away.
bad luck and the heat had led to defeats
while our foes seem to gain every day.
The faces around me are a mix old and new.
Some friends have been traded away-
or waived on the wire, which was needed, no doubt.
I just hope these new call ups can play.
But there is no room for self pity or doubt
While our chance at the playoffs remains
There are so many players whose dreams are long dead
while we still play meaningful games.
This poem may be about the 2008 New York Mets. Certainly the title was inspired by a statement made by Mets owner, Fred Wilpon. The speaker may be David Wright. It is also possible that this poem is using the baseball season as an extended metaphor.
poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Goes Good With Beer
Goes Good With Beer
(Casey Beathard/Ed Hill)
Flat tire on the interstate;
Too many nights of workin' too late.
Had a run in with an old memory.
No, it ain't been the best of weeks.
But it goes good with beer and the Friday night atmosphere.
Of this cross-town bar where the cars all get steered to.
And it goes hand-and-hand with my crazy buddies and this three-piece band,
And the pretty girls and the games we play, and the smoke and mirrors:
Yeah, troubles come, but they go good with beer.
Yeah, it does, yeah.
Bring all your debts and all your bills;
Load up your mountains and your molehills.
Come as you ain't or as you are,
An' don't forget that broken heart,
Oh, it goes good with beer and the Friday night atmosphere.
Of this cross-town bar where the cars all get steered to.
And it goes hand-and-hand with my crazy buddies and this three-piece band,
An' the pretty girls and the games we play, and the smoke and mirrors:
Yeah, troubles come, but they go good with beer.
Yee haw, oh, yeah.
Bring all those stories you can share.
Just like the peanuts and the pretzels on the table there.
Yeah, it all goes good with beer and the Friday night atmosphere,
And the pretty girls and the games we play, and the smoke and mirrors:
Yeah, troubles come, but they go........
Good with beer and the Friday night atmosphere,
Of this cross-town bar where the cars all get steered to.
And they go hand-and-hand with my crazy buddies and this three-piece band,
An' the pretty girls and the games we play, and the smoke and mirrors.
Yeah, it all goes good with beer and the Friday night atmosphere,
Of this cross-town bar where the cars all get steered to.
And it goes hand-and-hand with my crazy buddies and this ten-piece band,
An' the pretty girls and the games we play, and the smoke and mirrors:
Yeah, troubles come, but they go good with beer.
Pass me them peanuts brother.
Shhhhhhh.
song performed by by John Michael Montgomery
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Meaningful games
The air of September has turned crisp and clean,
with a hint of past autumns remembered,
as I take the field with the rest of the team
to battle the other contender.
Just like a knuckleball released to the plate
Our season has seemed to meander
In May we seemed sure of a World Series date-
But now the blogs call us pretenders.
The lead we enjoyed in June and July
has steadily melted away.
bad luck and the heat had led to defeats
while our foes seem to gain every day.
The faces around me are a mix old and new.
Some friends have been traded away-
or waived on the wire, which was needed, no doubt.
I just hope these new call ups can play.
But there is no room for self pity or doubt
While our chance at the playoffs remains
There are so many players whose dreams are long dead
while we still play meaningful games.
This poem may be about the 2008 New York Mets. Certainly the title was inspired by a statement made by Mets owner, Fred Wilpon. The speaker may be David Wright. It is also possible that this poem is using the baseball season as an extended metaphor.
poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Susie Cincinati
Well susie cincinnati
Got a groovy little motor car
She lives for the night
And her husbands a security guard
Her looks arent exactly a plus
But it doesnt matter to us
Because she knows where its at
And she gets you there in seconds flat
She knows all the honkies
And the kids are all home in bed
(ooo ride susie cincinnati)
Shed rather do this
Than anything else instead
(ooo ride susie cincinnati)
She got the nicotine fit
And before she discovered it
(ooo ride susie cincinnati)
Everybody in the back seat suffocated
Susie cincinnati we thought you were a winner
Susie cincinnati citys number one sinner
Yeah
Susie cincinnati we thought you were a winner
Woah
Susie cincinnati citys number one sinner
Susie cincinnati we thought you were a winner
Susie cincinnati citys number one sinner
Yeah
Susie cincinnati we thought you were a winner
Susie cincinnati citys number one sinner
Woah yeah
Shell always pick you up
When the others go and leave you down
(to the ride to the ride susie cincinnati)
In her little red cab shes scootin all over town
(to the ride to the ride susie cincinnati)
Shes gotta mind the meter too
My pockets got some signs for you (? ? ? )
But its just one look
Because shell give the ride free to you
Susie cincinnati
Susie cincinnati
Susie cincinnati
Susie cincinnati
Susie cincinnati
Susie cincinnati
Susie cincinnati
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Seventh Inning Stretch
Written in 1908 by jack norworth and albert von tilzer
Katie casey was baseball mad
Had the fever and had it bad
Just to root for the home town crew
Every sou, katie blew
On a saturday her young beau
Called to see if shed like to go
To see a show but miss kate said no,
Ill tell you what you can do...
Chorus
Take me out to the ball game
Take me out to the crowd
Buy me some peanuts and cracker jack
I dont care if I never get back
So its root, root, root for the home team
If they dont win its a shame
For its one, two, three strikes youre out
At the old ball game
Second verse
Katie casey saw all the games
Knew all the players by their first names
Told the umpire he was wrong
All along, good and strong
When the score was just two to two
Cagey casey knew what to do
Just to cheer up the boys she knew
She made the gang sing this song
Chorus
song performed by by Gin Blossoms
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Coach Joe
Thirty years gone by
My senior year
Past many sunsets
Playing baseball
Coached
By an icon named Joe
His two hundreth win
Was hard to get
When it finally came
This game, Ill never forget
We started the year at eight and 0
His win total, at one ninety-nine
Lost eight straight
Then, we lost our minds
The celebration cake, got stale
Doing nothing right
Though we tried, with all our might
Depression, set in
Would he get that
Two hundreth win?
Hooray, It did finally arrive
Extra innings
A game for the ages
A tear in his eye
Again, this team was alive
'It's the little things'
He would say
That count in this game
On this field
In life, in every way
He called us knuckle heads
At times, he did yell
Was he joking or not?
Hell, we could'nt tell
My seven brothers
Were coached by this man
Giving all he had
To this small town clan
As long as I live
I 'll never forget
He called us by our last name
Knew everyone of us
Just the same
We will never, forget
Nor will we, ever regret
The discipline this man showed
Making men of boys'
Playing baseball
Learning heartaches and joys
poem by Matt Mondschein
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Susie Cincinnati
Susie cincinnati
Got a groovy little motor car
She lives for the night
And her husbands a security guard
Her looks arent exactly a plus
A-but it doesnt matter to us
Because she knows where its at
And she gets you there in seconds flat
She knows all the honkies
And the kids are all home in bed
(ooo ride susie cincinnati ride)
Shed rather do this
Than anything else instead
(ooo ride susie cincinnati)
She got the nicotine fit
And before she discovered it
Everybody in the back seat suffocated
Susie cincinnati we thought you were a winner
Susie cincinnati citys number one sinner
Yeah
Susie cincinnati we thought you were a winner
Woah
Susie cincinnati citys number one sinner
(get yourself together)
Susie cincinnati we thought you were a winner
Susie cincinnati citys number one sinner
Yeah
Susie cincinnati we thought you were a winner
Yeah
Susie cincinnati citys number one sinner
Woah yeah
Shell always pick you up
When the others go and let you down
(to the ride to the ride susie cincinnati)
In her little red cab shes scootin all over town
(to the ride to the ride susie cincinnati)
Shes gotta mind the meter too
All polished up it shines for you
But its just for looks
Because shell give the ride free to you
Yeah
Susie cincinnati
Susie cincinnati
Susie cincinnati
Oh baby what you do
Susie cincinnati
S-s-susie cincinnati
S-s-susie cincinnati
Susie
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Saga Of Dandy, The Devil & Day
[kool keith]
Why don't y'all play that pitch
The right manage gonna be in the game
[moe love]
It's the top of the ninth
Josh gibson is at the plate
The bases are loaded, it's a three and two count
And here's the pitch
[kool keith]
Steppin up to the plate, first batter
[moe love]
Kool keith
[kool keith]
Black baseball, it was a known fact jack
With the weather so hot, who could play like danny day
The greatest and the best, like the satchel brother paige
Long tom and little bomb, in the hall of fame
Like josh and bunt, be alert, duck
Everybody was down for beer and peanuts
Foxes in their sunday's best, their brightest dress
[moe love]
And on deck, ced g
[ced g]
Now baseball today troop, is mostly not racial
But back in the days it was all segregated
The whites had the majors and then the blacks had the negro leagues
They both had great talent but then us blacks have no history
Of all our great players, the teams in the ballpark
But we're here to shed light, restore the glory they haven't got
Black baseball, they paved the way
With players like dandy, the devil, and day
(repeat 3x)
Black baseball
[moe love]
Bring er home
[ced g]
Now the ballparks they played in was very far from a stadium
They only sat hundreds troops as opposed to the thousands
But the stands they was packed, for the league that was fat
With teams like the baccarats and the homestead grays
The eagles and many more, came ready to play
In cities like birmingham, newark and chi-town
The bus trips were very long, paychecks would bring a frown
But not to these players, cause they really loved baseball
You could ban them from majors, but not from the game
With players like leon day, who pitched almost every day
His arm would hold up, blowin hitters with smoke away
And then there was bullet joe, also was smokey joe
King richard and savateen, and brothers like ed pole
Next, batter up!
[moe love]
Bring it home keith!
[kool keith]
They took the long great line that was so fine
Super and strong to play, three games a day
Hey hey, thunder twins are up and gonna win again
Make the other players say "oh him again!"
But whattya know?
[ced g]
Black baseball (baseball) they paved the way
With players like dandy, the devil, and day
(repeat 3x)
Black baseball (baseball)
[kool keith]
Poppa bell was cool, broke any catcher's rule
On the base, at night, total speed rip the light
Comin past flick flash he was so fast
Scouts watchin in awe at what they saw
The best in the game, it's a shame, you don't know
Alex and double duty, and don't forget juty
Talent was there, and it was black
[ced g]
Give them their credit folks, and build em a hall of fame
Where legends can rest, with uniforms and the whole shebang
And honor the players, coaches fans and the ballparks
From the giants or phillies, to the new york like yankees
The pittsburgh crawfords, yeah they don't have to thank me
Just thank the red bull's, just thank the abe manley's
Just thank rufus lewis, a few names that grab me
Black baseball (baseball) they paved the way
With players like dandy, the devil, and day
(repeat 4x)
Black baseball (baseball)
[moe love]
And we're out
[kool keith]
And we're gone
song performed by by Ultramagnetic Mc's
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We All Stand Together
Win or lose, sink or swim
One thing is certain well never give in
Side by side, hand in hand
We all stand together
Play the game, fight the fight
But whats the point on a beautiful night?
Arm in arm, hand in hand
We all stand together
La-
Keeping us warm in the night
La la la la
Walk in the night
Youll get it right
Repeat
Win or lose, sink or swim
One thing is certain well never give in
Side by side, hand in hand
We all stand together
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Farewell To My Fans
A farewell to my fans
When I am just a faded memory,
and my dimensions shift in your mind’s eye-
think back upon the nights you spent at me
around a field of green beneath the sky.
For you were here the night back in 04’
The night that Jeter dove into my stands
When Yanks and Red Sox played a thirteenth Frame
he caught the ball but had to leave the game.
And you were here when A-Rod hit three bombs
Against the cy young candidate Colon-
you stood expectant in my left field stands
To catch the fourth if ever it should land..
Who can forget old Freddy and his pan-
The “Ancient Mariner” of Yankee fans
He wanders through my aisles just like a vendor-
He bangs the drum more slowly this September.
I’ve been the field where Ruth and Mantle played-
where DiMaggio stood out at center stage.
I’ve been the home plate where the luckiest man
bowed out before his disbelieving fans.
I’ve played host often to a Series game
My champions have added to my fame.
The shadows long upon my infield face
As days grew short and cool at Autumn’s pace.
I was the place George Herman lay in state
When he lost his fight for life in 48’
Thousands of you wandered past his bier
(the only one he didn’t want, I hear) .
But now my time has come, they say I’m through
And I think hard what Gehrig had to do-
He passed on the baton from failing hands
So I too say my farewell to the fans.
poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Twenty Seven!
We entered last night at gate four,
the precious tickets in our hands.
The Anthem’s ending drowned in cheers
as we took seats high in the stands.
“Godzilla “had a monster night.
He was a one man wrecking crew.
Pedro couldn’t get him out.
Nothing really he could do.
Here and there the Phillies tried
To stage a rally, beat the best.
But Andy always held them down
while pitching on just three days rest.
When “enter Sandman” starts to play
It’s like a Frank Sinatra score:
Game over for the Phillies’ reign
They weren’t coming back, down four.
A happy meeting at the mound,
once Victorino grounded out
As coaches, players stormed the field
from the first base side dugout.
Flags and pennants, banners wave
And Modell’s opens up the store
Faithful fans behold the prize
Like early Christians filled with awe.
poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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No Place To Run
Joey rides the subway
Fast from east to west
On the street hes number one
Some say that hes the best
Got something going on
In a honkey tonk down town
He is expected
Word has got around
The other-side of midnight
Or in the combat zone
Meeting no resistance
Joe stands alone
Night riders prowling
Out into the night
Theres someone else out there
And theyre looking for a fight
Between the rain soaked buildings
A distant whistle blows
Fate lies in waiting
Its hand it never shows
* heart beating like a drum
Out in this wasteland
And theres no place baby for us to run
(in) jungle land (baby)
Jungle land, jungle land
Jungle land. jungle land
Under the railway arches
Someone calls his name
Streams out the words
Come on boy this aint no game
One flash of bright cold stsel
In a strangers hand
Kids dance away like shadows
Theres no one to command
Joeys got his name
Pairited on the wells
On the side of buses
Subways and tenement halls
(repeat *)
Jungle land, jungle land
Jungle land, jungle land
Jungle land, jungle land
Jungle land, jungle land
song performed by by Ufo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Football Friday
Friday nite, small towns, big city
Big lights, mark field
quietly awaiting
for bands, fans
school colors, school spirits
pep rally's, scoring alleys
big crowds, cheering fans
cheerleaders dancing, cheering
Root Root for the home team
balls flying, bodies diving
scrambles of run, bombs of passes
scoring touchdowns, holding them down
Win Win hail to our team
Lose Lose hold your heads high
there's another day to win the game
loading bus, cheers and jeers
what a night, for the fight
Win Win for the home crowd
Go Go we won't go
fight fight thru the night
finally a win, what a team
play the game as your first
win it like your last
sportsmanship is the respect
give a hand shake win or lose
till the next game we will go
on another beautiful Friday night
poem by Michael Peterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Lambeau Effect
Green Bay, Titletown, Lambeau Field, the Packers
fan or not the experience is breathe taking
People from all over the country, some oversea
come to enjoy the long traditions and magic
Tailgaters everywhere, Grills a fire
Strangers talking as friends, chatting last week's game
Brats, Hamburgers, steaks sizzling
the beer in the coolers chillin, the soda & booze fizzling
beans bags tossing, Music blasting tunes
Women dancing, Guys laughing
flags flying, Green and gold flowing everywhere
the proud partiers showing their pride
stands and Bands surround the Sacred land
the bars full of crazy fun fans
the costume they wear so unique, From the Bishop to the Hulk
war paint on, warmed up for the frozen tundra
the pregame rituals, praying to the football gods
beer salutes for a championship, nothing no less
These fans win or lose treat strangers as one of them
cheering, laughing, crying, praying all during the game
the roar of the crowd flows all over town
the streets so deserted, not a creature moving during game time
The anthem being sung, the jets roaring by, a salute to America
the coin flip and the kick off sends the crowd a frenzy
the roar of cheers and boos echo in the air
Score and the player leaps to the stands
the big jump their own way, Lambeau Leap style
the hugs and cheers for the soldier of score.
Smiles all around, cameras flashing
a experience no other place comes close to
Green Bay the heavens of football
the traditions and standards everyone enjoys
win or lose loyal as they get
go my friend, fan or not, you will be surprise
its a lifetime of memories and the experience never changes
go now and experience the Lambeau Effect
for it is worth the hype, football's heaven
poem by Michael Peterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Walk On The Wild Side
Holly came from miami f.l.a.
Hitch-hiked her way across the u.s.a.
Plucked her eyebrows on the way
Shaved her leg and then he was a she
She says, hey babe, take a walk on the wild side
Said, hey honey, take a walk on the wild side
Candy came from out on the island
In the backroom she was everybodys darling
But she never lost her head
Even when she was given head
She says, hey babe, take a walk on the wild side
Said, hey babe, take a walk on the wild side
And the coloured girls go
Doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo
Doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo
Doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo
Doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo
(doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo)
(doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo)
(doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo)
(doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo)
(doo)
Little joe never once gave it away
Everybody had to pay and pay
A hustle here and a hustle there
New york city is the place where they said
Hey babe, take a walk on the wild side
I said hey joe, take a walk on the wild side
Sugar plum fairy came and hit the streets
Lookin for soul food and a place to eat
Went to the apollo
You should have seen him go go go
They said, hey sugar, take a walk on the wild side
I said, hey babe, take a walk on the wild side
All right, huh
Jackie is just speeding away
Thought she was james dean for a day
Then I guess she had to crash
Valium would have helped that dash
She said, hey babe, take a walk on the wild side
I said, hey honey, take a walk on the wild side
And the coloured girls say
Doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo
Doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo
Doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo
Doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo
(doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo)
(doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo)
(doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo)
(doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo)
(doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo)
(doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo)
(doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo)
(doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo)
(doo)
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Everybody Knows
I got your number right off the wall
Bristol 285 wont you give me a call
Well I was 15 thought I was hot
I didnt know if youd see me or not
And that night as we stepped out
We were hand in hand
But my friends all seemed to know you
I couldnt understand
That everybody knew, everybody knew, they knew your name
But nobody wants nobody wants to play your game
You seemed so shy so all alone-y
Without any hint of ever being phony
But then the little things that came to light
Like the strange hours you worked late at night
And as we laid in your bed that night
You made me feel like a king
Then as I looked into your eyes
I heard that telephone ring
And everybody knows, everybody knows, they know your name
But nobody wants, nobody wants, to play your game
Oh no, they dont want to know your game again
(instrumental)
And everybody knows, everybody knows, they know your name
Nobody wants, nobody wants, to play your game
And everybody knew, everybody knew, they knew your name
But nobody wants nobody wants to play your game
(instrumental to the end...)
song performed by by Ufo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Down By The Side Of The Road
Her father was a failure
Her mother was a comfort
To a doctor and lawyer and indian chief.
The shirt ran out of buttons
He lost all his marbles at a baseball game
And they went on relief.
The bank took away their diplomas
They locked them up inside of the chest
And she moved away to oklahoma
And got a tattoo on the side of her breast
God-damn, my socks are still hard
From lying on the sofa on the night she was over in my backyard
Yeah, we was shooting the breeze out amongst the trees
When a shot rang low
And left her standing down by the side of the road
Down by the side of the road
Father have mercy, whoo whoo
Get her a nurse please
Shes almost alone
I saw her hand reaching out for the telephone
We rather see her locked up inside a home
Than see her standing down by the side of the road
Down by the side of the road
Headlights flashing on her skirt in the wind.
Yonder comes a truck it drove by two men.
Shotgun man leaned out and said do you want to take a ride?
Out in the pale moonlight light. light light lie lie lie lie
Too long in the hot sun
She couldve be miss wisconsin a long time ago
Spent to much time inside of the early show
Wed bought her a ticket but she didnt want to go
She was standing down by the side of the road
Down by the side of the road
Headlights flashing, caught a skirt in the wind.
Yonder comes a truck it drove by two men.
Shotgun man leaned out and said do you want to take a ride?
Out in through the pale moonlight
Her father was a failure
Her mother was a comfort
To a doctor and lawyer and indian chief.
The shirt made out of buttons
He lost all his marbles at a baseball game
And they went on relief.
The bank took away their diplomas
They locked them up inside of the chest
And she moved away to oklahoma
And got a tattoo on the side of her breast
God-damn, my thoughts are still hard.
From lying on the sofa on the night she was overi n my backyard
Yeah, we was shooting the breeze out amongst the trees
When a shot rang low
And left her standing down by the side of the road
Down by the side of the road
Down by the side of the road
Down by the side of the road
song performed by by John Prine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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