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World Tour: Part 1

by assorted artists

/
1.
Blaseball rivals best beware Our band has no second chair Garages are equal and that’s rad Because we’re all equally bad We always lose But not enough We’ve gone for years With no stat buffs ‘Cause we care too much to give up But we suck too hard to win We strike out as runners-up And the cycle starts again We work hard but we stay the same Stuck between subpar and fine Every day’s another battle when you’re batting for Seattle And here there is no party time Garages on the mound again (Garages on the mound again) Eight pitchers? Might as well be ten (Might as well be ten more) A lineup full of strained “what-ifs” (Yeah, like what if we were good) Star hitter? Plundered by the lift (Just our luck, she’s stolen) We have no stars But we love them all We’d love them more If they hit the ball ‘Cause we care too much to give up But we suck too hard to win We strike out as runners-up And the cycle starts again We work hard but we stay the same Stuck between subpar and fine Every day’s another battle when you’re batting for Seattle And here there is no party time Our team just wants to rest a day (Our team just wants to rest a day) Before waves or fire sweep them away (Burn out or get burned up) We’re mediocre to the bone (No bones about it, we suck) But playoffs won’t leave us alone (Three-time losing champions) No special skills Not blessed or cursed And while you’re here You won’t get better, but you might get worse ‘Cause we care too much to give up But we suck too hard to win We strike out as runners-up And the cycle starts again We work hard but we stay the same Stuck between subpar and fine Every day’s another battle when you’re batting for Seattle And here there is no party time Is it time yet, when’s our turn Can we get lit before we burn? Led to slaughter like we’re cattle Our team knows there’s no parties in Seattle ‘Cause we care too much to give up But we suck too hard to win We strike out as runners-up And the cycle starts again But we’ve got heart and soul here We don’t care what they all say And our future might be unclear But you can’t take our band away Misfits have a place here No matter what their stats Even if they suck, we’ll still cheer Every time they’re up to bat So who cares about the standings We’re here to kill gods and play ball And maybe it’s not the worst thing If Seattle can’t party at all
2.
Six seasons gone with your roster unchanged No-one prepares you and it feels so strange Rats in a tire But this wheel's on fire And you know that nothing could be the same Draw up your blueprints and make all your plans Matters have been taken out of your hands Don't be surprised If you're unrecognised By the people who claim they're your biggest fans Too far gone Got no choice Move along 'Cause whatever you are It all becomes scattered Distorted and shattered We'll tear you to pieces How does it feel? We were all fools when we clung to the mast Our Ship of Theseus stuck in the past Time to let go now Although I don't know how And I've got a feeling this wave won't pass Time to go Face the change Wild Wings forever 'Cause whatever we are We'll all find a new way Pase lo que pase: We say it; let's mean it! How does it feel? How does it feel...?
3.
Born to play the game And died doing the same Then took a brief vacation Atop The Hall of Flame Among the best there ever were The best that ever came There is only one, for now Who has that honored name York Silk, rest in violence Rest in violence, York Silk If once you were an idol Then I suppose you always will When the news came down the people heard Sad trombones and violins And said "York Silk, Rest in violence" York's our dork, our glasses toasted Ego boosted & honey roasted With a gunblade bat called the vibe check Silk is home run record holding Along the best there ever were The best that ever came The only one who could gather folks To sing this here refrain: York Silk, rest in violence Rest in violence, York Silk If once you were an idol Then I suppose you always will When the news came down the people threw Daffodils and violets And said "York Silk, Rest in violence" When the news came down the people threw Daffodils and violets And said "York Silk, Rest in violence" And said "York Silk, Rest in violence"
4.
Seventeen, eight, one, sixteen, eighty, forty nine on home plate, Twenty nine, thirty nine, minus five, then log of six and seven, Five, seven, seven, eight, eight, nine, eight, eight, eight, Thirteen million, two hundred five thousand and eleven Three hundred and fifty nine point seven eight three two, Avogadro’s number, just like our dreams, split in twain, Twenty two over square root of i added to, Fourteen standing sullenly in the soaking bloodrain Twenty two divided by nine times square root of Philly pi, Zero because the Thieves stole all my shoes, Insult and injury of a shelling all divided by, The sum of all my sorrows captured in my same old numeric number blues
5.
Oh, Uncle Plasma bring hot chocolate to our base, Our trench coats really could be thicker for this place, We've got the team, The whipped cream, Our marshmallows are ace, Uncle Plasma please bring chocolate to our base Oh, Uncle Plasma won't you bring us a radio? (Ours are all in use by the Intelligence Bureau) To hear the games, And cheer your name, To follow our Uncle Pro, Uncle Plasma please bring us a radio Oh, Uncle Plasma won't you visit us on the moon? Your ion smile could really warm up the frigid rooms, Bring your bass, To outer space, Help us play a tune, Uncle Plasma please visit us on the moon
6.
Nibblin' on popcorn, Watchin' the Beams score, All of those batters covered in blood I just start to sing My bat missing every swing, Check that score, it's twenty to one Strikin' out again in Margaritoville Searchin' for just a single walk Some people claim that there's those old gods to blame But I know, it's nobody's fault Don't know the reason Been losin' all season, Even though I've been freshly transfused, But I think this grass blood Might be a real dud How it helps me, I haven't a clue Strikin' out again in Margaritoville Searchin' for just a single walk Some people claim that there's those old gods to blame Now I think, hall, it could be my fault I blew out my best stat Swallowed a peanut I see Beck, cruisin' far from home At least I'm the bartender And soon I will render That floral concoction that helps us hang on Strikin' out again in Margaritoville Searchin' for just a single walk Some people claim that there's those old gods to blame But I know, it's my own damn fault Yes, and some people claim That there's those old gods to blame And I know, it's my own damn fault
7.
came out of party time on a friday prime guess it's our lucky day cards drawn now lets play we partied wavy hard and now we're the mild card this has never happened before what else could we have asked for so bad, we're good things went exactly how they should party time on friday prime so good, we were bad the fridays' own olympiad in season nine party time and when the cards were drawn guess who got to go on our first postseason games it's never been the same even by season fourteen theyre still the best memories we were having so much fun almost made the tigers run so bad, we're good things went exactly how they should party time on friday prime so good, we were bad the fridays' own olympiad in season nine party time we broke the records got to have it both ways we broke the records came out of party time on a friday prime guess it's our lucky day cards drawn now lets play we partied wavy hard and now we're the mild card this has never happened before what else could we have asked for and when we were done we sure had a lot of fun hope the tigers do their best now it's time for us to rest
8.
Here I am a Machine Like a fish up a tree Who’d expect season 12 To be traded for Mindy Now it’s just like the pods And against all the odds I got a bat in my feeder And a will to fight gods So here I go I shoot the bat Directly at the ball As I think about first base I feel like I'm starting to stall The opposition is firm But then I hear from the crowd: "Oh, Worm?" I know my new team believes in me I'll try my best to be their batting machine And strangely it turns out to be I'm really not half bad Now I'm in the dugout Composting self doubt And I'm learning to sign So Vess isn't left out I turn on everyday Feeling ready to play And I'm learning the difference between silt and clay So here I go I shoot the bat Directly at the ball And I try to writhe towards first base But it doesn't work at all The loam beneath me turn firm And I hear them shout: "Oh, Worm?" I know my new team believes in me I'll try my best to be their batting machine And as it strangely turns out to be I'm really not half bad Now I find I'm swept away I wait elsewhere for 20 days The noise I make is now in my name And somehow an acne breakout on my front face plate I know my new team believes in me I'll try my best to be their batting machine And as it strangely turns out to be I'm really not half bad I know my new team believes in me I'll try my best to be their batting machine And as it strangely turns out to be I'm really not half bad Oh, Worm! Back up vocals There’s Muddy rock and Syenite There’s shaly shale and Laterite There’s loamy sand and sandy loam We call each of these things our home There's clay and silt and quartzolite And Greisen, sand and diorite There’s ultra gravel and tephrite And spectrum sand and monzonite
9.
Come listen to the tale of some-worm smaller than my thumb A legend I'll regale about our hero, Lenny Crumb Oh Lenny was a baker from way down in the loam With just an oven and some dirt, he was happy in his home 'Til one day he breached the surface, and gazed up at the sky, oh And thought "my oh my," it's time to move to Ohio With a trusty cupcake on his back, Lenny rolled up his lack of sleeves And fashioned him a plane out of nearby twigs and leaves And though his flight designs were not even out of beta He crash landed in a field outside of Wapakoneta Lenny looked around and saw the greatest sight he'd ever seen Bats a-swinging, birds a-swarming around the Wapak Blaseball team He looked just in time to see something blocking out the sun Quickly caught his first flyout and stopped a game-winning home run (…game-winning home run!) With Wapak's new star hitter, they started building steam Crumb just couldn't quit, a true credit to the team With each home-run he hit, Lenny's fame would grow Though he stayed humble, all his flans shout "Look at that worm go!" (Look at that snail go! What?) One morning in the dugout, came an unexpected guest "Hey Lenny, have some time? The name's Hidalgo Internet. I'm starting a new league. I like your wriggle and your squirm." And that's how Lenny Crumb became the first Ohio Worm! (…how Lenny Crumb became the first Ohio Worm. Back to you…) For nine seasons of the ILB the Worms racked up the scores But Crumb, deep down, he feared the founder wanted something more After three champion titles Lenny couldn't take the tension So those Ohio Worms began planning an ascension Sure enough the time was coming: the twelfth season's final day Internet revealed they had a fearsome debt to pay With each passing win their patron's eldritch hunger grew They said "Lenny, come and join the feast we'll start by eating you" (today's forecast calls for dark omnipotent forces feeding off the spirit of Bla-OH GOD NO) To avoid being Hidalgo's twisted sacrificial lamb Lenny called a huddle, and they hatched their daring plan They gathered up their peers and equals, the Georgias and the Mechs, And left a warning and a blessing in a Forbidden sacred text Any three time champs should know no fear if Blaseball should return For they'd ascend, and so escape a fate fit for no-worm And if things were worse than Lenny feared, and didn't go as planned The Big Leagues would come back to Earth and flood the whole darn land And that's exactly what they did. After they had met the Crabs, They knew the League would not be safe in the Boss's cold dark hands And though the gravity's different, they need time to readjust That Coin don't know what's coming, 'cause the Worms do what they must Yeah the Worms do what they must Dirt to dirt, loam to loam, and dust to dust (All writhe!)
10.

credits

released April 5, 2021

- no parties in seattle -
by Kate Olguin (@DragonDirigible)

- Ship of Theseus -
by Peter Silk @KestrelPi

- York Silk (Rest In Violence) -
Written and Performed by Chris Daily
(IG @chrissionimpossible)

- Numeric Numbers Blues (absolutely NOT a numbers station) -
Made by Agent 39.2 (agent392.bandcamp.com), Twitter @Agent3921

- Operation PLASMA Swing (and miss) -
Made by Agent 39.2 (agent392.bandcamp.com), Twitter @Agent3921

- MargaritoVille -
Lyrics by Ivy F. (Spiderface)
www.youtube.com/channel/UCSVxF70cSMwUihNlDd0U7ew
Vocals and instrumentals by Henry P. and Gilly C. (TheInsaneGod)
original song: Margaritaville by Jimmy Buffett

- historic season nine party time speedrun and associated records -
written, performed, recorded, and produced by ari (soundcloud.com/lovelyweatherforducks)
beach sounds recorded by honu
james mora voiced by ari
a. harrell and jacob winner voiced by laura a. (TectonicPlates#7156 on discord)
juice collins voiced by @MaliceAmidst on twitter
tweets by fletcher yamamoto

- Not Half Bad -
Lead Vocals by Rana (colrana.bandcamp.com)
Lyrics and Instrumentals by Sci-Fi Boyfriend (sciencefictionboyfriend.bandcamp.com)

- The Legend of Lenny Crumb: A Tall Tlale -
written, performed and produced by VVL
bass, backup vocals, and radio voice by Queue D.G.

-The Museum -
by Rosie Drown

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the garages Seattle, Washington

if you want an album for free, for any reason, email thegarages@fourth-strike.com

we are the garages, an anarcho-syndicalist blaseball band from the fictional location of seattle. we make songs about being gay, the apocalypse, and fighting the gods. ... more

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