I hear the sound of angry fans I’m walkin’ by, they’re crushing cans And throwing them at their sets again You know I’ve heard this thing before Every year, at least times four It’s a city built on stubs and scars We swear, “No not next year” But led back to the wooder, here we are You know we feed them ‘til they’re packed Tickertape is way too much to ask
Here in the streets and the dives, you can feel it While back in the stands, swing and miss, you can hear it These seasons are new, zero=love, but we fear it
Barb from South Philly calls again She was just a kid in ‘64 But remembers her dad cursing at the same old radio Now they Phold like it’s the only thing they know
I hear the ghosts of Billy Penn They’re wailing, “Oh no not again,” And talkin’ bout the disappointment that’s on deck But don’t sleep ‘til it’s over (Cause it brings us together)
These arenas are like scenes of a crime Soft goals and turnovers 20,000 grunts turn into sighs And the national condemns…to hell with them You know I’d throw snow again
Here on the jobs, in the halls, you can feel it While back in the stands, 6-4-3, you can hear it These seasons are new, zero love, and we fear it
I hear the ghosts of Billy Penn They’re wailing, “Oh no not again,” And talkin’ bout the disappointment that’s on deck But don’t sleep ‘til it’s over Cause it brings us together I hear the ghosts of Billy Penn I see your goats and your Bartmans But don’t worry bout it The piper’s passing out the checks From the Bull back to the wall To the top of city hall We are beaten, full of crow But I know I’d never call another home “home.”Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.