I used to mime the Doc, throwing K’s up on the hill
But coach put me at first base, I tried my best but still
I couldn’t hit the curve ball, I was second string at best
It would take a miracle to get called off the bench

Left New York for California, fell for the first girl that I met
She gave me a new season, one I hadn’t seen as yet
I still followed all the ball scores, down to every single game
I’ve forgotten all the players but I can’t forget her name

Every game don’t roll your way
I get down on my knees and pray
That it won’t be in the Series
Underneath October drums
When my Buckner moment comes
When my Buckner moment comes

Let it be then in the springtime
When the gulf waters run still
Let the cameras not be rolling
Let the grandstand not be filled

The bar lights soft and hazy and it takes me off the street
It’s nice to know a language I don’t ever have to speak
My bases are loaded and the count is three and two
I’ll look up at the sky, where to go, what to do

Every game don’t roll your way
I get down on my knees and pray
That it won’t be in the Series
Underneath October drums
When my Buckner moment comes
When my Buckner moment comes