You were three coats of paint ago You were a heartbeat in my ghost When you left, you said you'd go I painted over everything I owned I didn't feel like dying alone There ain't no crying in Petite League, no It's a perfect game, no hitter boys One, two, three and I'll go down swinging It's the only way to end a winning season It's the only way to end a winning season It's the only way I'll end a winning season I used to make fun of you for praying Looking up with nothing to say Now I write lists of what keeps me happy And I keep throwing them away And I keep throwing them away There ain't no crying in Petite League, no It's a perfect game, no hitter boys One, two, three and I'll go down swinging It's the only way to end a winning season It's the only way to end a winning season It's the only way to end a winning season It's the only way to end a winning season It's the only way to end a winning season It's the only way to end a winning season It's the only way to end a winning season It's the only way to end a winning season