When boyhood's fire was in my blood,
I read of ancient Red Sox,
Of Pudge and Yaz who got the runs,
and Cy Young who'd deny them;
And there I prayed I yet might see
Our long dark waiting end,
And Boston, long in drought, shall win
A series once again!

A series once again
A series once again
And Boston long in drought shall win
A series once again

And from that time, through wildest woe,
That hope has shone a far light,
Nor could love's brightest summer glow
Outshine that Citgo starlight;
It seemed to watch above my head
In Fenway, T, and fane,
Its angel voice sang round my bed,
A series once again!

So as I grew from boy to man
I watched and prayed and waited
My pint glass full of several beers
I drank, refilled, and drained them
For thus I hoped some day to aid
Oh, can such hope be vain?
When my dear ball team dominates
A series once again!