Five-to-three's the score
Full-count, men on first and third, pitcher's arm's sore
As the batter swings, then he sees a thing
Dangling from a guy who's wearing nothing but bling

You're taking off your pants again
Running 'cross the diamond naked
It's so easy to offend
You're lookin' like a fool
You're never getting NEA* grants again
Your performance art is makin'
the fans go in a trance again
From staring at your tool

Seeing on the field
A shameless streaker; shocked, we all squeal
And there's something more no one can ignore:
There's an extra bat and balls the coach didn't ask for

You're taking off your pants again
Running 'cross the diamond naked
You're showing us your lance again
You're lookin' like a fool
You're never getting NEA* grants again
Your performance art is makin'
the fans go in a trance again
From staring at your tool

"Take him out of the ballgame!"

Your oily skin is shining bright
To see your buttocks pasty white
Makes some people get real sick
Our seventh-inning stretch was fine without your trick

You could have bought a player's jersey
You could have worn some comfy blue jeans
But now you're just au naturel
Oy vey

You're showing us your ass again
Running 'cross the diamond naked
Hey look; you've cut the grass again
We all know you're a fool
You're showing that you have got no class again
That stunt you've pulls is surely makin'
Everyone aghast again
From staring at your tool

(To jail you've gone)
To jail you've gone
(To jail you've gone)
What you did was so wrong
So wrong, could have at least worn a thong