My tears were fallin', but they took my job away.
And I must tell you now, Art Howe, there's something that I've gotta say:

Take good care of crybabies.
The team in orange, black and blue.
Just tell 'em that they're lucky
make money though they're sucky
in everything they say and do.

Aw, take good care of crybabies.
Even though they make fans cry.
Just trade away each quitter.
Get Cedeno some pinch-hitter.
And watch out for that plane-filled sky.

Once upon a time, the New York Mets were mine.
Beat the Yankees, and they would not have fired me.

So take good care of crybabies.
Just watch them oh-so-patiently.
And if you should discover
they make you want your mother
just know there's hope for you, 'cause look at me!

Well, take good care of crybabies.
Just watch them oh-so-patiently.
Aw, and if you should discover
they make you want your mother
just know there's hope for you, 'cause look at me!

Well, take good care of crybabies.
Well, take good care of crybabies.
Well, take good care of crybabies.
(repeat 'til fade)