| Saturday summers, when I was a kid
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| We’d run to the schoolyard and here’s what we did
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| We’d pick out the captains and we’d choose up the teams
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| It was always a measure of my self esteem
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| Cuz the fastest, the strongest, played shortstop and first
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| The last ones they picked were the worst
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| I never needed to ask, it was sealed
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| I just took up my place in right field
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| Playing…
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| Right field, it’s easy, you know
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| You can be awkward and you can be slow
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| That’s why I’m here in right field
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| Just watching the dandelions grow
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| Playing right field can be lonely and dull
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| Little Leagues never have lefties that pull
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| I’d dream of the day they’d hit one my way
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| They never did, but still I would pray
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| That I’d make a fantastic catch on the run
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| And not lose the ball in the sun
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| And then I’d awake from this long reverie
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| And pray that the ball never came out to me Here in…
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| Right field, it’s easy, you know
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| You can be awkward and you can be slow
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| That’s why I’m here in right field
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| Just watching the dandelions grow
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| (whistle a variation of Take Me Out To The Ballgame…)
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| Off in the distance, the game’s dragging on There’s strikes on the batter, some runners are on I don’t know the inning, I’ve forgotten the score
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| The whole team is yelling and I don’t know what for
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| Then suddenly everyone’s looking at me My mind has been wandering; |
| what could it be?
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| They point at the sky and I look up above
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| And a baseball falls into my glove!
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| Here in right field, it’s important you know
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| You gotta know how to catch, you gotta know how to throw
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| That’s why I’m here in Right Field, just watching the dandelions grow! |