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!!