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This town ain't big, this town ain't small It's a little of both they say Our ball club may be minor league but at least it's triple A We sit below the Marlboro man, above the right field wall We do the wave all by ourself Hang ump, a blind man could've made that call Chorus: We like beer flat as can be We like our dogs with mustard and relish We got a great pitcher what's his name Well we can't even spell it We don't worry about the penant much We just like to see the boys hit it deep There's nothing like the view from the cheap seats The game was close, we'll call it a win Go off to toast the boys again That local band is back in town They got a kinda minor league sound They're not that bad, they're not that good But all in all it's understood We wanna dance, they wanna play We wouldn't have it any other way Chorus Cheap seats Now the majors called up oh what's his name And one more buildin' rises tall And suddenly we're all grown up And this old town's not quite so small But I'll always miss the middle size town In the middle of the middle-west With no name pitchers and local bands, And mustard and relish and all the rest. Chorus Cheap seats