Lyrics

When you’re on the clock, and you need a hitting savant
You should want your team to draft Chance King
He’s got a cannon arm and he’ll steal third base
The scouts all say he’s the next Willie Mays

And when he’s on the mound, striking everyone out
Are you hallucinating? Is that Koufax pitching?
He could lead the league in wins and RBI
He’s a Chuck Bednarik-ish kind of guy
You gotta draft Chance King
Was Little League MVP

His physics teacher, says he’s the next Hawking, solving dark matter (solving dark matter)
A likely Nobel Laureate, Large Hadron Collider, after playing baseball (after playing baseball)
And you know he made a
Finger painting of a cockatoo
They want to hang it in the Louvre
It’s Monochromatic
He once wrote a villanelle
For this beautiful girl Michelle
He was crushing on
She said yes to prom

When the weekend comes, and his homework’s done
For the blind, he reads, and for the elderly
He has no gluttony or sloth or pride
It wouldn’t be a shock to see him Canonized

At the end of day, he lies in bed and prays
For the middle east, for the rocks and trees
For his mom’s tomato plants and his brother’s toad
He prays for the success of his dad’s Hulu show

He’s the perfect son
(Robitussan, HELLO!)
His dad is 81