The Baseball Project - The d**h of Big Ed Delahanty lyrics

Sometimes, hung over, he might lose a pop fly in the glare of the Washington sun And, yes, he swung at bad pitches, and let the Irish in him sharpen up and boozy-bloat his tongue Nights on the road, he led a bachelor's life, with the bright, short blaze of a shooting star But he soaked some homers, yeah, four in one game, when the ball was dead and the fences far Big Ed, don't let them weigh you down Big Ed, don't let us weigh you down In July 1903, he was hitting .333, for him that was a little bit under par On the 2nd, he jumped the team and jumped a train from Detroit to New York, went straight for the dining car He was boozing it up good, they say, making trouble, cursing, shouting, Delahanting in the bar At Fort Erie, Ontario, he was bumped from the train, wandered out on the bridge, but he didn't get too far The night watchman said he'd seen a man, ended up wearing his bowler hat He heard a splash, but he didn't see him fall What good's it do to question d**h when it makes a bad call? But I don't think he k**ed himself I think some strange notion drew him to Niagara Falls Across the curve of day and night Like the perfect arch of a high fly ball