L. A., sun will be setting.
Late whooping, the Braves will be getting.
Williams Perez, the southern gent,
taking the Dodgers to task in his stint.

Innings roll, Braves were really in it.
One down, inning 4, Pedro Ciriaco ties it.
Inning 5, Freddie Freeman plates a lead.
Through 6, the pitching tandem’s “like a mighty machine.”

It’s Shakytown, or Weird World,
Or SoCal, or, or, “OH, NO!”

One night in Chavez saw the A Braves tumble,
Into the game came a new Brave Nick Masset,
Three left the yard and the earthquakes rumble,
We weren’t so lucky to be in L. A.
The 8th inning surely ruined our day.

This town’s really like none other,
Certainly this bullpen’s such an awful mother.

It’s a drag, it’s a bore, it’s really such a pity,
To lose in such a “Hollywood” city.

Whaddya mean,
This is one crowded, polluted, stinking town.

Alberto Callaspo might be moving,
Can he bring back bullpen grooving?

On Vine, you’re talking to a tourist.
Where’s the passion for a baseball purist?
We got kicked right in the assline, sunshine.

One night in Chavez saw the A Braves tumble,
This bullpen sucks and it needs a stopper,
After a whipping we know we’re humble,
We weren’t so lucky to be in L. A.
The 8th inning surely ruined our day.