There once was a pitcher named Zito
The giants thought he was neato
They paid out big bucks
For an arm that just sucks
And now their season’s finito

The lad had a great curve
He threw it with gusto and verve
But his fastball was flat
Almost sought out the bat
Alas finally he lost all his nerve

They brought in the fair-haired young Barry
But he rendered results flat-out scary
We’re still on his side
They said with false pride
For the contract is something we can’t bury

They sent him down to the pen
To find his greatness again
He sat and he pouted
Claimed his manhood was outed
Yet he ran to the bank with a grin

You say that I can’t play
I’ll show you again someday
I’ll try and I’ll try
While the fans sit and cry
And I’ll do for some damn good pay

-GENE GENE THE LIMERICK MACHINE