Ballpark

Late night in Chicago
I break into Wrigley Field
It's early spring
The season isn't starting for a week
It's a little after midnight
I've been playing down the street
At an open mic in a little bar
Just under the el tracks
I've noticed for a couple days that
They've been doing some work on the ballpark
They've got scaffolding up
I climb in

Well I go check out the bat rack
Straighten out my hat
Sit down on the bench
Where Fergie Jenkins sat
Walk slowly to the mound
I stretch and then I glide
Fire a couple high and tight
And then strike out the side
I step to the plate
Take a couple low
Swing with all my might
Watch it go
Over the wall

Tonight I got the ballpark
Tonight I got the ballpark
Tonight I got the ballpark
All to myself

I run in the outfield grass
Like Moe, Curly and Larry
Announce a couple innings from the press box
Just me and Harry Caray

I make a leaping catch
Against the ivy-covered wall
The early season ivy is a cushion to my fall
I trot in from the warning track
My cap, it tips the crowd
Float across the infield
It's really getting loud
I race toward third, turn on a dime
Dig for home, headfirst slide
Sandberg in his prime

Tonight I got the ballpark
Tonight I got the ballpark
Tonight I got the ballpark
All to myself