Steve Goodman - A Dying Cub Fan's Last Request lyrics

By the shores of old Lake Michigan
Where the hawk wind blows so cold
An old Cub fan lay dying in
His midnight hour that tolled
All around his bed, his
Friends had all gathered
They knew his time was short
And on his head they put this bright
Blue cap from his all-time favorite sport
And he said, "It's late
It's getting dark in here and I
Know it's time to go
But before I leave the line-up
There's just one thing I'd like to know

Do they still play the blues in
Chicago when baseball season rolls around?
When the snow melts away
Do the Cubbies still play in
Their ivy-covered burial ground?
When I was a boy they were my pride and joy


But now they only bring fatigue
To the home of the brave
The land of the free and the
Doormat of the National League

He told his friends "You know the
Law of averages says that
'Anything will happen that can'
That's what it says
But the last time the Cubs
Won a National League pennant
Was the year we dropped the bomb on Japan"
The Cubs made me a criminal
That's what they did
They stole my youth from me
(that's the truth)
I'd forsake my teachers, to go
Sit in the bleachers, in flagrant truancy

Then one thing led to another and
Soon I'd discovered alcohol, gambling, dope
Football, hockey, lacrosse
But what do you expect
When you raise up a young boy's hopes?
And then just crush 'em like
So many paper beer cups

Year after year, after year, after year
After year, after year, after year
After year
'Til those hopes are just so much popcorn for
The pigeons beneath the 'L' tracks to eat
He said, "You know I'll
Never see Wrigley Field
Anymore before my eternal rest
So if you have your pencils
And score cards ready
Then I'll read you my last request

He said, "Give me a double header funeral in
Wrigley Field on some sunny weekend day
No lights
Have the organ play the "National Anthem" and
Then a little 'Na, na, na, na
Hey hey hey goodbye'
Make six bullpen pitchers carry my coffin and
Six ground keepers clear my path
Have the umpires bark me out at every base
In all their holy wrath

It's a beautiful day for
A funeral, hey Ernie, let's play two!
Somebody go get Jack Brickhouse to come back
And conduct just one more interview
Have the Cubbies run right out into
The middle of the field
Have Keith Moreland drop a routine fly
Give everybody two bags of
Peanuts and a frosty
Malt and I'll be ready to die

Then build a big fire on
Home plate out of your
Louisville Sluggers baseball bats and
Toss my coffin in
And let my ashes blow in a beautiful snow
From the prevailing thirty
Mile-an-hour southwest wind
When my last remains go flying
Over the left-field wall
We'll bid the bleacher bums adieu
And I will come to my final resting place
Out on Waveland Avenue

The dying man's friends told him to cut
That out, they said stop it, boy
That's an awful shame
But he said, "Don't cry
We'll meet by and by near
That heavenly hall of fame
He said, "I've got season's tickets
To watch the Angels now
So that's just what I'm going to do
He said, "but you the living, you're
Stuck here with the Cubs
So it's me that feels sorry for you!"

And when he said, "Play that
Lonesome losers' tune, gosh
It's the one I like the best"
He closed his eyes, and
He slipped away, well, mike
It was the Dying Cub Fan's Last Request
So here it is