| For 60 years he shined shoes in the same spot in the shadow of Yankee Stadium…
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| As he shines he hears the game, and in his mind he hears his name as if he
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| played for them…
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| Takes his turn at bat, there’s the pitch, he swings at it, and it’s gone…
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| Back through the years he’s gone…
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| To take the field with Ruth and Gehrig, bring the pennant home…
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| He sees himself in pinstripes, in a lineup of his own…
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| He’s stranded on a basepath, somewhere between old and New York…
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| As a customer asks for the shine, he snaps his cloth, another inning ends…
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| Dodgers come to bat, there’s a drive, he makes the catch to point he’s tossed
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| again…
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| His cloth becomes a glove, as he’s done with every customer he’s known…
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| Back through the years he’s gone…
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| To take the field with Maris and Mantle, bring the pennant home…
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| He sees himself in pinstripes, in a lineup of his own…
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| He’s stranded on a basepath, somewhere between old and New York…
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| Takes his turn at bat, there’s the pitch, he swings at it, there it goes…
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| Back through the years he goes…
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| Ride a ticker tape parade with Joe DiMaggio…
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| As he patiently signs an autograph with a spitshine on a toe…
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| He’s stranded on a basepath, somewhere between old and New York…
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| Oooooh…
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| Between old and New York…
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| Da-da-daaa…
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| Oooooh…
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| Between old and New York…
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| Oooooh… |