This town ain't big, this town ain't small

It's a little of both they say

Our ball club may be minor league but at least it's triple A



We sit below the Marlboro man, above the right field wall

We do the wave all by ourself

Hang ump, a blind man could've made that call



Chorus:

We like beer flat as can be

We like our dogs with mustard and relish

We got a great pitcher what's his name

Well we can't even spell it

We don't worry about the penant much

We just like to see the boys hit it deep

There's nothing like the view from the cheap seats



The game was close, we'll call it a win

Go off to toast the boys again

That local band is back in town

They got a kinda minor league sound



They're not that bad, they're not that good

But all in all it's understood

We wanna dance, they wanna play

We wouldn't have it any other way



Chorus



Cheap seats



Now the majors called up oh what's his name

And one more buildin' rises tall

And suddenly we're all grown up

And this old town's not quite so small

But I'll always miss the middle size town

In the middle of the middle-west

With no name pitchers and local bands,

And mustard and relish and all the rest.



Chorus



Cheap seats