It's 7 o clock on a gamenight
The meager crowd shuffles in
There's 15 rookies sitting next to me
And i want some tonic and gin

I say "man can anyone here play this game?"
I think every player here blows
I should have stayed with the A's
They made simple plays
Now I'm stuck in these f'n Mets clothes

Da, da-de-da, la-da, la-de-da, da-dum.

Win us some games your the manager
Win us a game tonight
Well we're all the mood for a victory
But the mets are playing like shyte

Now cliff out in left was a star at one point
Has a 6 million dollar fee
And his achillies is aching, or mabye hes faking
Cause there's some place that he'd rather be

He says "Art i believe this is killing me"
As a smile ran away from his face
Well I'm sure i could be a superstar
If I could get out of this place

Da, da-de-da, la-da, la-de-da, da-dum.

Now Raul is a triple A veteran
Who would have been down there for life
And he's talkin to Roger, who should still be a dodger
Does anyone have a gun or sharp knife?

And the staff ace is practicing mechanics
As Leiter also gets rocked
Yes they're starting to think, they should call it quits
Cause' its better than both being mocked

Win us some games your the manager
Win us a game tonight
Well we're all the mood for a victory
But the mets are playing like shyte

It's a pretty good crowd for shea stadium
And Wilpon gives me a smile
Cause' we know that its reyes, the reason fans pay us
To forget about the standings for a while

And the organ it sounds like a funeral
Because there's no future here
And they call up the fan
To put blame on one man
And say "man, there's nothing to cheer"

Win us some games your the manager
Win us a game tonight
Well we're all the mood for a victory
But the mets are playing like shyte