On a long and silly Friday
I hear Cowlishaw
talkin' 'bout a NASCAR engine
moaning out its redneck song.
I can think about the woman
Danica Patrick can't go wrong.

But his microphone I'll be muting
just like I always do
when he's talked for sixty seconds
and his talking turns me blue.
And I give the mike to Woody Paige
who's age one hundred two.

Here I am... around the horn again.
There I am... up on the stage.
Here I go... call the old man again.
There I go... turn to Paige.

I hear Reverend Bill pontificate
'bout the way things ought to be.
I can feel his eyes upon me
interrupts Mariotti.
I just hope Jay won't be talking 'bout
the Cubs' long misery.

Woody is so old he played
in the Confederate Army band.
Says Woody, "Jay, who dresses you
a woman or a man?"
While Bill and Tim, they laugh it up
it's more than Jay can stand.

Here I am... around the horn again.
There I am... up on the stage.
Here I go... call the old man again.
There I go... turn to Paige.

Out there on ESPN
they seem so far away
when they talk about the Yanks and Sox
and if T.O.'s gonna play.
And I wonder, will I "Buy Or Sell"
Woody living one more day?

Later in the evening
as I lie awake in bed
and I run the show's tape back and forth
in the Showdown, Woody bled.
Because Mariotti beat him.
Now he goes out of his head.

Here I am... around the horn again!
There I am... up on the stage!
Here I go... call the old man again!
There I go... turn to Paige!