Beat Downs

Flying out of the stadium is a hardball to heaven's stair
 My team beat yours 11 to 1, my dear
 A minor trouncing, majorly fair
 Strike one, strike two, strike three
 I was tossed from your league
 The fun had been you but the game was up- i had to leave
 I gambled it bad and i chose the wrong sport for the team
 It should've been wimpier
 Like volleyball
 Your fastball was entirely desperate
 Never should have thrown it on the 2-0
 Your catcher tried to signal curveball
 But he wasn't quick enough and he was too on the down-low
 The statistics were mine,
 But the spirit was yours through the season
 Now,
 The only pleasure i get is
 From the beat downs that my city brings to yours
 The satisfaction i get is
 From the beat downs that my city brings to yours
 But, it's only 'cause i'm superstitious
 That if my team beats yours i've also beaten your
 Resentments and all your judgments,
 Your memory and sweet things you promised to me
 Like
 Baby, we're gonna marry
 And honey-child, we'll have a baby
 And sweetie-pie, we're solid as a rock
 And precious, i am eternally yours