And now, the end is here, and so the Mets, play their last game out.
And fans, from far and near, tell little Rey to get the @%#$ out!
So Bobby Valentine, still wonders "When, will things turn my way?".
It's way, past time for that, so hit the highway.
We played, we won a few, but then again, too few to mention.
Far more, the team looked like, a narcoleptic's help convention.
For every big home run, that cleared the fence, and by a long ways
There were, 10 times that Bur-ny's bat, flew sideways.
The D, we though we had, in the infield, it did desert us.
And all those errant plays, in the long run, they really hurt us.
And runners picked off 1st, on those few times, they hit the BB,
The one, bright spot to that, Mike couldn't DP.
Yes, there were times, I'm sure you knew, the runner stole, and Mikey hrew
Instead of cutting down a steal, the throw went in, to centerfield.
The record shows, the Mets did blow, and almost alwaaaaays!