It's beginning to feel like 1776 [1] in here…
It's a megadeal, I say
They will cheer every clause
Every number
I wish I felt that way
That we won't still have
Phil Humber
But then again
The Mets are Mets
And wrought with implication
If they blow
This trade of trades
They'll need another nation
An agent, a GM and an ace
With lightning for an arm
It's a simple fact
To think that now we act
As midwives to a pact
We're waiting for the scratch, scratch, scratch
To be paid Johan Santana
Waiting for this trade to hatch
On this soggy Friday afternoon a
Fortnight before spring training
God knows the contract is high enough
To choke a giraffe
But will it draft Johan?
We're waiting for the swap, swap, swap
To soon be deemed official
Waiting until five o'clock
For the Wilpons to start doling out that
Citi Field naming money
God knows the pile is high enough
To solve the debt
But will it yield a Met?
Johan's gonna make big bucks
So he oughta make 'em at Shea
Brother, it would suck, suck, suck
If twenty million stood between us
And penciling in Santana
I'm gonna click on MetsBlog [2] again
And hope that Omar has grabbed a pen
To make sure Johan
Belongs to us!