And then there were eleven.
Eleven little ball players,
all powerful men.
One forgot how to pitch.
And then there were ten.
Ten little ballplayers,
still looking fine.
Another one to the Phillies?
And then there were nine.
Nine little ballplayers,
isn't this great?
One got California cool
And then there were eight.
Eight little ballplayers,
Swinging those sticks.
Two were declared fungible.
And then there were six.
Six little ballplayers,
something doesn't jive.
One couldn't stay healthy.
And then there were five.
Five little ballplayers,
at one time there were more.
One got old very quick.
Four little ballplayers,
this is killing me.
One was fat and bitched and moaned.
And then there were three.
Three little ballplayers,
with nothing much to do.
One moved on to South Beach.
And then there were two.
To be concluded...