The Old Grunt
[Verse 1]
Firmly rooted and quite hellbent
The old grunt packs up the hose
And pokes his nose through the old trunk trap

[Verse 2]
Hurts from years of concentration
Spent in the umpires association
Talking 'bout the next sensation

[Verse 3]
Up and coming, but now he's strumming
A buzzing one-stringer, always quite a singer
Did his wife in with dueling banjos