Lyrics Catfish - Bob Dylan

Catfish

Lazy stadium night
Catfish on the mound
«Strike three,» the umpire said
Batter have to go back and sit down
Catfish, million-dollar-man
Nobody can throw the ball like Catfish can
Used to work on Mr. Finley’s farm
But the old man wouldn’t pay
So he packed his glove and took his arm
And one day he just ran away
Come up where the Yankees are
Dress up in a pinstripe suit
Smoke a custom-made cigar
Wear an alligator boot
Carolina born and bred
Love to hunt the little quail
Got a hundred-acre spread
Got some huntin' dogs for sale
Reggie Jackson at the plate
Seeing' nothing' but the curve
Swing too early or too late
Got to eat what Catfish serve
Even Billy Martin grins
When the Fish is in the game
Every season twenty wins
Gonna make the Hall of Fame