When I was a little kid, we lived in Brooklyn.
I was a Dodger fan. They were my heroes.
They’d often win the pennant,
then lose the world series to the Yankees.
I still get cranky – when I get around pin stripes.

But in ’55, they came alive – got the big win.
They kicked Yankee butts and we all went nuts – in Brooklyn. But in two short years the cheers turned to tears
as the news came down.
Dem Bums were leaving town.

Chorus
We’d love to stay here – but we just can’t make it pay here.
So I’m sorry to inform ya –
We’re goin’ to where it’s sunny – gonna make more money –
in southern California

I’ll never love another team – said the broken hearted boy.
You’ll only gain big league pain –
where there should be fun and joy.

Short instrumental bridge

Well, the years go by and somehow I become a grown up.
Then a whole hunk of life happened –
wound up in San Francisco.

There I met my wife – we built our life – no more wishin’.
We had us a good old time – but something was missing.

Well the missing link, comes I think,
from when we were small.
In the background, we’d often hear the sounds of baseball.

The crack of the bat – the roar of the crowd –
the play by play.
Still resonates today.

Chorus

We’re comin’ back – comin’ back to baseball.
We’re back on track – getting’ on back to baseball.
Yeah, we’re comin’ back – comin’ back to baseball.
We’re friends again – that good old game of baseball.

Instrumental break

Now the Giants are the home team –
made them our own team.
They’re the ones we root for.
We go to games – call the umpire names –
we holler and we hoot for.

And our biggest rivals are the Dodgers –
so ironic yet so nice. They burned me bad when I was a lad -
but now I get to hate them twice.

Crowd chants – “Beat LA, Beat LA, Beat LA........ “