Bye Bye, to Griffey the Kid

Bye-bye, to Griffey the Kid

(Set to Don McLean's American Pie)

A long, long time ago...
I can still remember
How that sweet swing used to make me smile.
And I knew if he had his chance
That he could make those people dance,
And, maybe, they’d be happy for a while.

But the Spring of sleepgate made me shiver,
Each time his swing would not deliver.
I’d turn away, ignoring;
I couldn’t take one more swing.

I can’t remember if I cried
When I saw the truth his age implied,
But something touched me deep inside
The day the Kid’s swing died.

So bye-bye, to Griffey the Kid,
You drove those heaters to nose-bleeders,
Like a man never did.
You lit this city ablaze by the way that you slid,
And while time today is singing “retire.”
Time can never put out that fire.

I was short on years, but long on hope,
When I heard Dave call your double’s rope,
The kid can hit folks, “My oh my!”

First-pitch fastball into the seats,
Over the Kingdome outfield he completes,
And ‘fore long I was wearing Griffey cleats.

Well I knew the fever could not be healed,
When Junior stole one from Barfield.
Then his father became the muse,
And the homeruns came in twos.

You were a lonely teenage broncin’ cat
With a perfect swing and a backwards hat,
But I knew I was out of luck
The day the Kid’s swing died.

I started singin’,
Bye-bye, to Griffey the Kid,
You drove those heaters to nose-bleeders,
Like a man never did.
You lit this city ablaze by the way that you slid,
And while time today is singing “retire,”
Time can never put out that fire.

Now for ten years we were on our own,
And moss grows fat on a rollin’ stone,
But that’s not how it used to be.
When Junior leaped into the wall,
To return Randy’s lost fastball,
And snapped the wrist that broke his fall.

But the sailors they refused to fail,
And hoisted a determined sail,
They ran those Angels down;
And stole their Halo crown.
And if his five homers didn’t close the lid,
Then Junior’s famous sprint home did,
The Big Apple sauced by the hometown Kid
Before the Kid’s swing died.

We were singin',
Bye-bye, to Griffey the Kid,
You drove those heaters to nose-bleeders,
Like a man never did.
You lit this city ablaze by the way that you slid,
And while time today is singing “retire,”
Time can never put out that fire.

Helter skelter in a summer swelter.
Tiles fallout from a fallout shelter,
I asked my Dad if I could pay,
He said “Yer 15 bucks can’t make them stay.
But Junior’s here, it’ll be okay,
They’ll build a house where they can watch him play.

Chasing pin-striped ghosts and Braves alive,
61 and 8 and 755.
We all got up to dance,
Oh, but we never got the chance!
`cause we shouted hey Junior hit it here,
But like the R in old Rainier,
He was gone as fast as he appeared,
The day the Kid’s swing died?

We started singin',
Bye-bye, to Griffey the Kid,
You drove those heaters to nose-bleeders,
Like a man never did.
You lit this city ablaze by the way that you slid,
And while time today is singing “retire.”
Time can never put out that fire.

Time passed and others were seduced,
A generation lost in juice.
With no time left to start anew.
So come on: jack be nimble, jack be quick!
Jack flash brought back our lightning stick.
A home run trot to say adieu.

Oh, and as I watched him on the stage
To write one final storied page,
No truth defying stat,
Could tell me about your bat.
And as you were carried off into the night,
A victory lap, a hero’s right,
We were all blinded with delight,
Before the Kid’s swing died.

We were singin',
Bye-bye, to Griffey the Kid,
You drove those heaters to nose-bleeders,
Like a man never did.
You lit this city ablaze by the way that you slid,
And while time today is singing “retire,”
Time can never put out that fire.

I turned on Dave, to hear them lose,
And I listened for some happy news,
But he just smiled and said My oh my.
I went down to the sacred field
Where I’d watched a fevered city healed,
But the ball I saw there it just wouldn’t fly.

And in the streets: the children screamed,
The lovers cried, and the poets dreamed.
But not a word was spoken;
The target signs were broken.
And the athlete I admired most,
Who said no to the Faustian ghost,
He caught the last train for the coast.
The day the Kid’s swing died.

And we were singin',
Bye-bye, to Griffey the Kid,
You drove those heaters to nose-bleeders,
Like a man never did.
You lit this city ablaze by the way that you slid,
And while time today is singing “retire,”
Time can never put out that fire.

And we’re singin',
Bye-bye, to Griffey the Kid,
You drove those heaters to nose-bleeders,
Like a man never did.
You lit this city ablaze by the way that you slid,
And while time today is singing “retire,”
Time can never put out that fire.