Memorial to a minor league baseball fan.
Ball Parks in Heaven
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There's a ball park in heaven where the minor leaguers play,
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those who never made it big but love it anyway,
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the popcorn still tastes as good the hot-dogs are the same
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the fans who come all love the game and not the players' names
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And there's a seat in the crowd engraved with his name,
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a seat just halfway down the first base line. It's been waiting for him there
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and he gladly takes his chair to watch the sport where players number nine
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It's been many many years since he saw his last park
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but the radio maintained his link and kept him from the dark
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he knew a hundred stations, announcers who would call
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what this umpire judged a strike and that one judged a ball
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And there's a seat in the crowd engraved with his name,
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a seat just halfway down the first base line. It's been waiting for him there
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and he gladly takes his chair to watch the sport where players number nine
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to watch the sport where players number nine