Текст пісні
I was drafted second to last
In Little League each year
They called me "swing and miss"
Even though I hit a foul ball here and there
Little Robbie Erenberg
He was always the last pick
'Cause one time I put my glove up
And a fly ball landed in it
It was me and Robbie Erenberg
Taking turns in right field
Praying the ball was not hit our way
We were no Joe DiMaggio
We could not hit, pitch, field or throw
But come the final out
We thought we'd be okay
I could have been learning chords
Instead of chewing grass
Robbie played games on boards
The best at chess in our class
We watched the Dodgers
We were drawn to the threes and the nines
Our moms thought as they watched us
Surely we could play between the lines
So it was me and Robbie Erenberg
Taking turns in right field
Praying the ball was not hit our way
We were no Joe DiMaggio
We could not hit, pitch, field or throw
But come the final out
We thought we'd be okay
Down, down, da-da-da, down
Down, down, down, down
Down, down, da-da-da, down
Robbie's final out, no-one predicted
It happened all so fast, so unexpected
At a hot dog stand
In Dodger Stadium
He drew his last breath
Our first brush with death
Thinking 'bout all the things I'll never see again
My aunt Norma Jean has danced her last jitterbug with my uncle Jim
Robbie Erenberg, he won't lose another ball
He's forever young while I'm still here with my back against the wall
Sometimes Robbie Erenberg
Is still with me in right field
As I pray the ball is not hit my way
Yeah, I'm no Joe DiMaggio
I still can't hit, pitch, field or throw
Considering the final out
In the dusk of the long day
Down, down, da-da-da, down