(sung to the traditional Irish Melody Danny Boy)
Oh, Danny Boy, the camps, the camps are calling
Lakeland - Detroit, that way you shall not fly,
The spring is gone, and all the bats are leaving,
It's you must go, it's you must go and I must bide.
But come ye back when spring-time comes to Lakeland,
Or when we need a shortstop for the show,
And I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow,
Oh, Danny Boy, oh Danny Boy, I love you so!
But when ye come, and your O-B-P is dying,
If I'm still here, with Jimmy, Brad and Gene,
Ye'll come and find the place where I am dealing,
And kneel and say pretty, pretty please;
And I shall hear, if you hit the bases running,
And then your WAR on my charts, better be,
And if not, don't tell that you're sorry,
Then I shall sleep in peace until you come next spring!