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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
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