When my man Joe Carter
Won Game 6 with a single swing
I wondered what’s larger
Carter’s heart or the pain of the Wild Thing

Now, here’s a hard line drive down the third base line
It’s gonna get over the head of one Devon White
Unless he makes a spectacular basket catch
You thought the door was locked, but he picked the latch

At Skydome!
Where once Lloyd Moseby did roam
Skydome!

When Roger Clemens,
At the age of seven felled a maple tree
He thought about Chet Lemon
Falling victim to Blyleven’s speed.

Now, the syrup, maple syrup, in Toronto keeps us covered
Like a moose sitting on a leaf
But the Rocket kept us clean, kept us yellow, fruity-fresh
Like a springtime lemon breeze

At Skydome!
Where once Lloyd Moseby did roam
Skydome!

Now, I’ve been told that the finest, clearest vista in all of Ontario exists atop the majestic CN Tower, which springs eternally from the base of Skydome, like a greenhorn rookie, like a farmhand in September when they expand the rosters. From the friendly, dizzying heights of those ivy-less confines, former Jays’ third baseman Kelly Gruber keeps a careful eye on the U.S. border. Armed only with a master’s degree in border patrol technology and a laser-guided spyglass specially designed by Ottawa’s smartest, trustiest scientists, Gruber scans Michigan and Ohio for suspicious shapes, and listens, like a smallish, hovering air-whale, with the aid of a Canadian sonar device, for weird sounds, sounds that might, perhaps, emanate from Farmhands Headquarters deep, deep underground.

At Skydome!
Where once Lloyd Moseby did roam
Skydome!