The moon is hanging low
The leaves are on the ground
This winter will be long and cold
I do believe the birds have even stopped singing
The Giants lost the World Series

I do admit I worry
‘bout the great Barry Bonds
How will he feel with no ring
on his finger?
He’s basically Mays and Ruth rolled into one
But how will he feel with no ring?
Mays got his early
Aaron got one too
Banks never did
But you expect that with the Cubs.
And of course everybody whoever played for the Yanks
Has rings on their fingers and toes.

A five-nothing lead with nine outs to go
Get six more outs somehow
And then Nen for the save
I’ll carry the thought of a five-nothing lead
With nine outs to go, to my grave.

I was in England,
Far far away,
I stayed up til five
Suffering alone
And when it was over,
I even thought maybe
The result might be different in America.

Dusty, oh Dusty,
Why’d you pull Ortiz?
Why’d you pull Rodriguez?
Why’d you pull Worrell?
I rubbed my eyes and tried to understand
How Nen was on the mound with no outs in the eighth.

A five-nothing lead…

And now it seems the team is falling apart,
Dusty is gone to the Cubs (good luck Dusty!)
Kent’s gone, Ortiz is gone,
Bell’s gone, Sanders too,
I guess they were just Giants for a while

The moon is hanging low, the leaves are on the ground,
This winter will be long and cold.
I do believe the birds have even stopped singing.
The Giants lost the World Series

A five-nothing lead with nine outs to go
Get six more outs somehow
And then Nen for the save
I’ll carry the thought of a five-nothing lead
With nine outs to go, to my grave

(lyrics: Dan Bern)