The TV above the bar
shows the Yankees
have the bases loaded
My bar mate tells me
Rap rhymes with Crap
A jealous husband
shot Kennedy
We never walked
on the moon
and if we quit giving
them foreigners all our jobs
we could make them
welfare people work
The Yankees pop up
One out bases still loaded
He says he has
three ex wives
a Purple Heart
a small drinking problem
if I stick around
they have that Karoke
and he does a mean Hank Williams
But bless the VFW
and two-dollar whiskeys
The Yankees hit into a double play
Leaving my new buddy
And the bases loaded
THE POETRY OF THE GAME