Michael Hunt's a batter
Who makes, pitchers beware

He hits speedy blinding flying
Balls with, lots of hang-time there

He hits speedy blinding flying
Balls with hangin' time in air
That thunder-up sky-hoppin'
And it's
No play down there
It's clear that it's
No play down there
Yeah
Never no play down there

But when he flies
It's then he's gone
'Cause Mike Hunt's too sore
And it hurts
To carry on
To carry on


Now doubles are dandy
Michael
Thinks they are swell

He hits where there ain't no leather
Glove to play where baseball fell

Where there ain't no leather
That can play where baseball fell

But Mike never spoke 'bout hitting
Only Mike's
Flying skill tells
Yes, only Mike's
Flying skill tells
Yeah
Only Mike's flying skill tells

But when he flies
It's then he's gone
'Cause Mike Hunt's too sore
And it hurts
To carry on
To carry on


"Chewing tobacco, sure is, strong and jui-cy,
All I ask of spitting is to have no stains on me.
All I ask of spitting is to have no stains on me,
And all I ask of chawing is to, not swallow it please,
Oh I wanna, not swallow it, please!

Here I go!
Hey, Hey!
Here comes tobacco!
Mighty fine!
Look out catcher!
Here I go!
Here I go!
Hey!

Don't want to swallow tobacco
Don't want to chaw be eatin'
Don't want to blow my chunks and
Don't want to cry 'I'm queasy!'

Just let me not, swallow it please!"

But when he flies
When he hits
One that's gone

Then Mike Hunt's too sore
Far too sore
To carry on
To carry on
Yeah
Yeah