The Kid from Spavinaw - Tom Russell

I was born in Oklahoma, 1931

Outside the town of Spavinaw

Where the red dust clouds the sun

And I ran beneath your diamond skies

And I drank your waves of grain

My name is Mickey Mantle, boys

And baseball is my game

My father’s name was «Mutt», boy

And he worked down in the mines

He pitched to me in the evening

At least a thousand times

A thousand times again, in my nightmare and my dreams

You’re going to live in the house that

Ruth built, kid

You’re going to make that Yankee team

Sure enough, the Yankee scout comes drivin',

Right down route 66

He’d have never come to

Spavinaw class D ball in the sticks,

But I happened to be playing in an old wood ball park

Way out on the mother road

That Yankee scout he signed me and I went up to the the show

Strike 1, that was the drinkin'

Strike 2, there go the knees

Then my old man died in Denver

Some type of lung disease

When God starts throwing change ups

You can’t swing with fame or wealth

If I’d known I’s going to live this long

I’d have taken care of myself.

I don’t miss the lights of Times Square

I don’t miss Toots Shore’s bar

I miss my old man pitchin' baseball

Near the shed in our backyard

I wish that he were still alive

To see these trophies on my shelf

If I’d known I was going to live this long

I’d have taken better care of myself

I was born in Oklahoma,

1931 Outside the town of Spavinaw

Where the red dust clouds the sun