Piazza, New York Catcher

Elope with me, Miss Private, and we'll sail around the world
 I will be your Ferdinand and you my wayward girl
 Many nights of talking in hotel rooms, can you take?
 How many nights of limping 'round on pagan holidays?
 Oh, elope with me in private, and we'll set something ablaze
 A trail for the devil to erase
 San Francisco's calling us, the Giants and Mets will play
 Piazza, New York catcher, are you straight or are you gay?
 We hung about the stadium, we've got no place to stay
 We hung about the tenderloin and tenderly you tell
 About the saddest book you ever read, that always makes you cry
 The statue's crying too and, well, he may
 I love you, I've a drowning grip on your adoring face
 I love you, my responsibility has found a place
 Besides, you and strong warnings in the guise of gentle words
 Come wave upon me from the family wider net, absurd
 "You'll take care of her, I know it, you will do a better job"
 Maybe, but not what she deserves
 Elope with me, Miss Private, and we'll drink ourselves awake
 We'll taste the coffee houses and award certificates
 A privy seal to keep the feel of 1960 style
 We'll comment on the decor, and we'll help the passer by
 And at dusk, when work is over, we'll continue the debate
 In a borrowed bedroom, virginal and spare
 The catcher hits for 318 and catches every day
 The pitcher puts religion first and rests on holidays
 He goes into cathedrals and lies prostrate on the floor
 He knows the drink affects his speed, he's praying for a doorway
 Back into the life he wants and the confession of the bench
 Life outside the diamond is a wrench
 I wish that you were here with me to pass the dull weekend
 I know it wouldn't come to love, my heroine pretend
 A lady stepping from the songs we love until this day
 You'd settle for an epitaph like "Walk Away, Renee"
 The sun upon the roof in winter will draw you out like a flower
 Meet you at the statue in an hour
 Meet you at the statue in an hour