Paul Simon - Night Game текст песни

Words & music by paul simon

There were two men down

And the score was tied

In the bottom of the eighth

When the pitcher died

And they laid his spikes

On the pitchers mound

And his uni-form was torn

And his number was left on the ground

Then the night turned cold

Colder than the moon

The stars were white as bones

The stadium was old

Older than the screams

Older than the teams

There were three men down

And the season lost

And the tarpaulin was rolled

Upon the winter frost