Put me in, Coach

Strike One

This is only the beginning, but I remember how it ends.
I’ve struck out every inning, so now you’ve gone out with your friends.
He’s stealing into second, he’s stealing into third.
The ball is still up in the air, but you hang onto every word.
I know here in the dugout my thoughts seem way off base,
but if I don’t keep up on the lookout, another player takes my place.
Put me in, Coach.

Strike Two

I know when playing pitcher, there always is a catch,
But I love to count my chickens long before they ever hatch.
If you’d just put me up to bat, I’d never fail at coming home,
But way out in this dugout I’ve been feeling so alone.
I’d love to dig my cleats deep into orange, into green,
But on this grey concrete it’s only red that I have seen.
Put me in, Coach.

Strike Three

If you’ll only let me swing it, I’ll be your Babe, I’ll be your Ruth.
Every voice out there will sing it, if you’ll only tell the truth.
I know our past is buried, but our future’s out on bond.
I’ve started sounding scary, and you’ve started looking gone.
If we can’t kiss for each other, then let’s do it for the crowd.
Our love is only smothered when we speak our names aloud.
Put me in, Coach.

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