A D A D A D A
This town ain't big This town ain't small It's a little of both they say
D E
Our ball club may be minor-league But at least it's triple F#
A D A D A D F#m
We sit be-low the Marlboro man Above the right-field wall
F#m D E
We do the wave all by ourselves "Hey Ump, a blind man coulda made that call!"
CHORUS
(G) A D A D A
We like our beer as flat as can be We like our dogs with mustard and re-lish
E A D D A D A
We've got a great pitcher, what's his name Well, we can't even spell it
E A D F#m
We don't worry about the pennants much We just like to see the boys hit it deep
F#M D E A D F#m E A D F#m E
There's nothing like the view from the cheap seats
A D A D A D A
The game was close We call it a win Go off to toast the boys again
D E
That local band is back in town They've got a kind of minor-league sound
A D A A D F#m
They're not that bad They're not that good But all in all, it's under-stood
F#m D E
We want to dance, they want to play We wouldn't have it any other way
Go to chorus, lead, "cheap seats", to third verse
A D A D A D A
Now the majors call up old what's his name And one more building rises tall
D E
And suddenly we're all grown up And this old town's not quite so small
A D A D A D F#m
But I'll always miss the middle-size towns In the middle of the middle West
F#m D E
With no name pitchers and local bands And mustard and relish and all the rest
Go to chorus, "Cheap Seats" "He hits it it's going going going yeah-eah It's
a home run" "Cheap Seats"
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