The Guardians of Nothing

[Verse 1] Three point one innings, you’re already finished Your "ace" is a joke with his talent diminished Good at the windup, BETTER at failing Your postseason ghost is currently sailing One-for-nine with the runners stranded You’re the weakest frauds that the Central branded Handing the season to Tampa today Just sunburnt tourists in Florida’s way [Chorus] Eleven on fourteen, the scoreboard is screaming, The Guardians falling, the rivals are dreaming. You’re kings of the error, the masters of shame, You Tourists of Tampa, go forfeit the game. [Instrumental break] [Verse 2] Your bullpen arrived just to gift wrap the win Seven runs deep and the nightmare begins Good at the hustle, BETTER at choking Your "lockdown" relief is publicly joking Two errors committed, a comedy show That "Guardians" name is a pathetic new low Fourteen hits leaked to a batting cage crew Your city’s whole legacy’s wasted on you [Chorus] Eleven on fourteen, the scoreboard is screaming, The Guardians falling, the rivals are dreaming. You’re kings of the error, the masters of shame, You Tourists of Tampa, go forfeit the game. [Outro] Fourteen hits later, your crown is long gone The softest collection we’ve ever spat on