(instrumental opening)

Nobodies at the plate.
They're sagging at the beach.
The record for home runs.
They've put it out of reach.
Empty stats, don't mean much
with chemicals enhanced.
In nineteen ninety-eight
we had been so entranced!
But...

I can see you
your pink skin burning in the sun
you got trapezius bursting and
you're thrilling everyone.
I can tell you
my anger at you still is strong.
We see the roided summer is gone.

I never will forget those nights.
Too bad that it was just a dream.
These news reports, they make me crazy.
Your evasiveness makes me scream.
I'll never understand
why you hurt the game I love.
You're leaving ballgames early
and cork is what your bat's made of!

I can see you
running out in Wrigley's sun.
You do your home-run hop but you're
lying to everyone.
I can tell you
my anger at you still is strong.
We see the roided summer is gone.

(instrumental break)

Out on the road today
I saw a Bonds T-shirt on a young kid's back.
A little voice inside my head
said, "What a schmuck, doncha cut him no slack."
I thought I knew my baseball.
What did I know?
Those days are gone forever.
So let's all let them go!
And...

I can see you
with over 700 home runs.
But you're walkin' real slow and
we all wish you were done!
I can tell you
my anger at you still is strong.
We see the roided summer is gone.

I can see you
your legacy is coming undone.
You don't deserve to break Hank's
record for most home runs!
I can tell you
my anger at you still is strong.
We see the roided summer is gone!

(instrumental fadeout...
just like Jose, Mac, Sammy, Raffy & hopefully Barry...)