HAPPILY, this song no longer makes sense!!!
Since the Sox are World Series Champions! Plus, Nomar is now a Cubbie, so the last verse is now defunct. Ah well.
Written in April 2002.
Opening Day in baseball's done,
161 games left to go on.
And I wish
the Red Sox had won,
but one game lost don't mean that we're done.
One game done and hope abounds
and i'm already
hearing World Series sounds.
161 games to break some curse,
161 games to not think the worst.
Pop fly, so
high
Keep going on and on
Pop fly, so high
Keep going on and on
161
161
Can't be cursed, can't
be blessed,
Don't believe in hexes I guess.
Is that a ghost floating over Fenway Park?
A Babe Ruth in the Boston
dark?
The myth that feeds fatalism
and gives a bad rap to optimism.
There are no ghosts if we don't make them,
There are no ghosts if we cannot shake them off.
Pop fly, so high
Keep going on and on
Pop fly, so high
Keep going on and on
161, 161
Don't call it a curse,
I said don't call it a curse.
The curse excuses
losses away,
the curse relies on hyjinx and bologna.
We need a win, a path to agree on--
like the Citgo sign a
beacon in orange neon.
Exorcise supposed ghosts.
161 games to just let them go.
Pop fly, so high
Keep
going on and on
Pop fly, so high,
let it be a home run
161
Take away the power of the stars!
I'm gonna
marry Nomar!
Nomar, Nomar
No more (curses), No more (curses)
161, 161
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