Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song The Dodgers Song (Oh Really? No, O'malley), artist - Danny Kaye.
Date of issue: 09.09.2014
Song language: English
The Dodgers Song (Oh Really? No, O'malley) |
Oh, I say D I say D-O, |
Team, team, team, team! |
Oh! |
I say O-M, |
Oh really? |
No, O’Malley! |
Sandy Koufax, oh my Drysdale, |
Maury Wills, I love you so. |
And we defy |
Defy the J-I, |
J-I-N |
J-I-N-T, |
The J-I-N-T-S, Gi’nts! |
Play ball! |
Orlando Cepeda is at bat with the bases jammed. |
Orlando Cepeda, with a wham, bam, he hit a grand slam. |
In the very first inning, but it’s only the begining, |
In the third, like a bird, we get two on, none away. |
Then Fairly hits into a double play. |
Here comes Big Frank Howard, yessiree, |
Boy, what a swing! |
Strike three. |
Oh dem B Oh dem B-U, |
Dem bums, dem bums, dem dry bums. |
Oh they may be bums, but they’re my bums. |
Top of the fourth, say hey Willy Mays |
Hits a three bagger down the right field line. |
Then he’s out trying to stretch it to a homer, |
As Roseborro tags him on the bottom of the spine. |
With a crack you can hear |
All the way back up to San Francisco, open your hospitals! |
Charge! |
Inning six, Maury Wills |
Draws a walk, in the coach’s box |
Leo Dourochure, Leo Dourochure |
Starts to wiggle and to twitch. |
A signal? |
No, an itch. |
Go Maury, go Maury, go go go! |
Maury goes, the catcher throws, |
Right from the solar plexus. |
At the bag he beats the tag |
That mighty little waif, |
And umpire Connlin cries, Yer out! |
Out? |
Out??? |
Down in the dugout Alston glowers, |
Up in the booth Vin Scully frowns. |
Out in the stands O’Malley grins, |
Attendance fifty thousand. |
And what does O’Malley do? |
Charge! |
Bottom of the ninth, four to nuttin', |
Last chance, push the button! |
Oh we’re pleading, begging, on our knees, |
Come on you Flatbush refugees! |
Maury Wills at bat, hit it for me once, |
Stu Miller throws, Maury bunts. |
Cepeda runs to field the ball and Hiller covers first, |
Hallah runs to back up Hiller, |
Hiller crashes into Miller, |
Miller falls, drops the ball, Connlin calls Safe! |
Yea, Maury! |
Gilliam up, Miller grunts. |
Miller throws, Gilliam bunts. |
Cepeda runs to field the ball and Hiller covers first, |
Hallah runs to back up Hiller, |
Hiller crashes into Miller, |
Miller falls, drops the ball, Connlin calls Safe! |
Yea, Connlin! |
Willy Davis gets a hit |
And Frankie does the same, |
Here comes Mr. Howard |
With a chance to win the game. |
Hit it once! |
Big Frank bunts?!? |
Cepeda runs to field the ball and Hiller covers first, |
Hallah hollers Hiller, |
Hiller hollers Hallah, |
Hallah hollers Hiller, points to Miller with his fist, |
And that’s the Hiller Miller Holler Hallah-luia Twist! |
The Davises score, it’s four to four, |
And Howard’s still rounding the bases. |
>From second to third, it’s almost absurd, |
Amazement on everyone’s faces. |
He’s heading for home, he hasn’t a chance, |
The poor lad is gonna be dead. |
But the ball hits him right in the seat of his pants |
And he scores! |
That’s using your head. |
So I say D I say D-O, |
The team that’s all heart, |
All heart and all thumbs, |
They’re my Los Angeles, your Los Angeles, |
Our Los Angeles… |
Do you really think we’ll win the pennant? |
Bums! |
Ooh, ooh, ooh dem bums. |