To the tune:
"Li'l baby, don't say a word: Mama goin' to buy you a mocking-bird.
Bird don't sing: Mama goin' to sell it and buy a brass ring."
"Millennium," yes; "pandemonium"!
Roy Campanella leaps high. Dodgerdom
crowned, had Johnny Podres on the mound.
Buzzie Bavasi and the Press gave ground;
the team slapped, mauled, and asked the Yankees' match,
"How did you feel when Sandy Amoros made the catch?"
"I said to myself"—pitcher for all innings—
"as I walked back to the mound I said, 'Everything's
getting better and better.' " (Zest, they've zest.
" 'Hope springs eternal in the Brooklyn breast.' "
And would the Dodger Band in 8, row 1, relax
if they saw the collector of income tax?
Ready with a tune if that should occur:
"Why Not Take All of Me—All of Me, Sir?")
Another series. Round-tripper Duke at bat,
"Four hundred feet from home-plate"; more like that.
A neat bunt, please; a cloud-breaker, a drive
like Jim Gilliam's great big one. Hope's alive.