In the year nineteen eighteen
the Red Sox played real mean
and Babe Ruth caused a scene.
Just a dream?

In the year nineteen forty-one
the Splinter did something since not done
.406 batting average, whoa
but didn't win like the streaking Joe.

In the year nineteen forty-six
the Olde Towne Team got its kicks
thought they'd beat the Cardinals of St. Loo
but Pesky held the ball too long, it's true.

In the year nineteen sixty-sev-en
dreams became possible once again
the Sox got a Triple Crown from ol' Yaz
but Gibson made them each swing like a spaz.

In the year nineteen seventy-five
Fisk waved his arms and kept hope alive
but after 23 hours more
they were on the short end of the score.

In the year nineteen seventy-eight
a Boston Massacre was their fate
the Yankees won that great Playoff game
and Bucky Dent got a new middle name.

In the year nineteen eighty-six
thought at last we had the Curse's fix
but Stanley threw a wild pitch, that sucks
and here's a grounder to Billy Bucks, whoa, whoa.

In the year nineteen ninety-nine
I thought we were gonna make it this time
I'd like to blame our loss all on the umps
but against the Yanks you can't field like chumps, whoa, whoa.

Now it is two thousand three
fans cry for eternity
never can seem to change the tune
now comes Aaron (Bleeping) Boone.
But back there in Fenway Park
in the light, or forever dark
perhaps all in spite of myself
maybe it's still 1912...

In the year 1918
the Red Sox played real mean
and Babe Ruth caused a scene.
Just a dream?

In the year 1941
the Splinter did something since not done
.406 batting average, whoa
but didn't win like the streaking Joe...

(fade out)