Bottom of the ninth inning At which I stray through the crowd First it was what I call quiet Then it was biblically loud
You should have seen how they tumbled You should have seen how they danced You should have seen them all luscious and lean As they flew by the seat of their pants
It was not the boilin' frustration It was not that I cannot care less It was not the face of that reverent place In the horrible state of undress
I moved in a way I call mindless I flatter myself a move true I carved out a "J" in the spectators' fray Because that's just the thing that we do
Yes, I carved out my name in the ninth of the game Because that's just a thing that we do