Lyrics:

Back in the '50s when Maglie was pitching
He'd send a little message now and then
They called him The Barber
'Cause he gave a mighty close shave
Ah, chin music
A little chin music kept the hitter in his place
Ten years later Drysdale and Gibson took no shit
From a hitter who was kissin' the inside corner of the plate
Ah, chin music
A little chin music made that hitter do a figure eight

Ryne Duren wore Coke-bottle glasses
His best pitches looked like intentional passes
The batters, they were trembling in their shoes
Ah, chin music
A little chin music was all that he needed to use
All the young kids pitch like they're under court orders
Getting all cute, painting the corners
The batter steps out of the box for a spell
A little chin music would serve those rookies well

Pitch count, set-up men, five-man rotations
Whirlpool, Tommy John, pinpoint location
And they still can't do what the old guys did
Ah, chin music
A little chin music, separate the men from the kids
High and inside, high and inside
Ah, chin music, a little chin music
You can run but you can't hide