E A E A E A E
This town ain't big This town ain't small It's a little of both they say
A B
Our ball club may be minor-league But at least it's triple C#
E A E A E A C#m
We sit be-low the Marlboro man Above the right-field wall
C#m A B
We do the wave all by ourselves "Hey Ump, a blind man coulda made that call!"
CHORUS
(G) E A E A E
We like our beer as flat as can be We like our dogs with mustard and re-lish
B E A A E A E
We've got a great pitcher, what's his name Well, we can't even spell it
B E A C#m
We don't worry about the pennants much We just like to see the boys hit it deep
C#M A B E A C#m B E A C#m B
There's nothing like the view from the cheap seats
E A E A E A E
The game was close We call it a win Go off to toast the boys again
A B
That local band is back in town They've got a kind of minor-league sound
E A E E A C#m
They're not that bad They're not that good But all in all, it's under-stood
C#m A B
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
E A E A E A E
Now the majors call up old what's his name And one more building rises tall
A B
And suddenly we're all grown up And this old town's not quite so small
E A E A E A C#m
But I'll always miss the middle-size towns In the middle of the middle West
C#m A B
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"