Lyrics

Skippin' out the back door
Running down the lane
With a bat and a glove
For a pick-up game
Red clay bakin'
In the summer sun
Cicadas in the trees
Sing a noisy hum
It's hot as hell
For a baseball game
But we play it every day
Like a sweet refrain

CHORUS

The sound of the crack
Of a baseball bat
Home plate
Is an old hubcap
That old ball you borrowed from a friend
If you hit that ball
A little too hard
You'll lose it in Mr. Skinner's yard
And you'll never see that ball again.

You weren't picked first
But you weren't picked last
Now you're an outfielder
Standing in the wild crabgrass
Swing batter batter batter
Swing batter swing
Trash talkin’ spit ballin’
Hit that thing
Little white ball
Flying in the air
You stick out your glove
And you say a prayer

CHORUS

BRIDGE

Looking back I do remember
What might be my favorite days
As I toss this ragged ball back across the fence
I say play boys play ... play ball

CHORUS

Chris's most recent album - After The Flood is a collection of songs full of heart from a seasoned and skilled craftsman mining life’s subject matter – family, work, love and love lost, childhood memories, and finding one’s place in the universe.

PRODUCED, ENGINEERED AND MASTERED by Doug Kwartler at Hollow Body Studios
Chelmsford, MA hollowbodystudios.com