Set against the fading Fenway sun Years since the last pennant had been won Long since the Bambino had been bought Boston found the hero it had sought Tony, our hearts beat as one Tony, you're Boston's chosen son In August, he was only 22 And there was nothing that he couldn't do That bastard, Hamilton, threw at his head Tony dropped, the crowd feared he was dead Tony, our hearts bleed as one Tony, what has that pitcher done? But miracle of miracles On Lansdowne Street A comeback and a home run swing Returning, oh, so sweet But it was never meant to be Tony cried "I cannot see" His eyes, they fade, the fans, they cried And at 45, Tony died Tony, our hearts, they still ring true Tony, we still remember you Tony, our hearts, they beat as one Tony, you're Boston's chosen son