This town ain't big, this town ain't small,
It's a little of both, they say.
Our ball club may be minor-league,
But at least it's triple A .
We sit below the Marlboro man,
Above the right-field wall.
We do the wave all by ourselves.
Hey Ump, a blind man could'a made that call!
We like our beer flat as can be,
We like our dogs with mustard and relish.
We've got a great pitcher, what's his name,
Well, we can't even spell it.
We don't worry 'bout the pennant much,
We just like to see the boys hit it deep.
There's nothing like the view from the cheap seats.
The game was close, we call it a win,
Go off to toast the boys again.
That local band is back in town,
They've got a kind of minor-league sound.
They're not that bad, they're not that good,
But all in all, it's understood:
We want to dance, they want to play.
We wouldn't have it any other way.
We like our beer flat as can be,
We like our dogs with mustard and relish.
We've got a great pitcher, what's his name,
Well, we can't even spell it.
We don't worry 'bout the pennants much,
We just like to see the boys hit it deep.
There's nothing like the view from the cheap seats.
Cheap seats!
Now the majors call up old what's his name,
And one more buliding rises tall.
And suddenly we're all grown up,
And this old town's not quite so small.
But I'll always miss the middle-size town,
In the middle of the Middle-West.
With no-name pitchers, local bands,
And mustard, and relish, and all the rest.
We like our beer flat as can be,
We like our dogs with mustard and relish.
We've got a great pitcher, what's his name,
Well, we can't even spell it.
We don't worry 'bout the pennants much,
We just like to see the boys hit it deep.
There's nothing like the view from the cheap seats.
Cheap Seats!
Writer(s): Marcus Hummon, Randy L. Sharp
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com