Take Me to the Ballgame, Daddy

Read me a bedtime story, Daddy.

I won’t mind if you skip a few pages,

Or even fall asleep in the middle.

Buy me an LP record, Daddy,

I promise that I’ll like it,

Even if it’s Bing Crosby,

Especially if it is.

Take me to the ball game, Daddy,

I won’t complain even if we sit in the bleachers,

And we lose fifty-to-zero,

Even if Russ Jackson doesn’t play,

And Whit Tucker doesn’t catch a single pass.

Take me to the golf course Daddy,

I promise not to fidget,

Not even on the green of the

eighteenth hole.

Take me to the temple, Daddy,

I promise to

To sit quietly,

To pray in earnest,

And listen carefully during the sermon.

Send me to sleep at 8 p.m., Daddy,

Or even at seven-thirty,

I promise to lie quietly in bed,

and not disturb your bridge game.

Sing to me again, Daddy,

Sing as off key as you want,

Sing songs a century old, or even two,

The saddest song

Will make me smile.

Tell me that you love me, Daddy,

That I did okay,

That part of you stays near me Daddy,

Before you go away.