Lyrics

Harley

He would eat by himself in the factory lunchroom.
Sit there and stare into space.
With his hair plastered down, in an old tattered t-shirt
A funny slanted smile on his face.

When the day rolled around for the company ball game
Everybody lined up on the grass.
They were drinking their beers and laughing about him.
And Harley was chosen last.

?Half-wit Harley? is what they called him
Yelling out his name.
Nothing he could say was going to change them.
So he didn?t complain.
?Cause to them, he was always ?Half-wit Harley.?

He stepped to the plate in the second inning.
They all pointed and started to shout.
He steadied his nerves and swung hard as lightning.
Three times and he was out.

?Half-wit Harley? is what they called him
Yelling out his name.
Nothing he could say was going to change them.
So he didn?t complain.
?Cause to them, he was always ?Half-wit Harley.?

The bottom of the ninth with one out to go.
Bases were loaded, down by three.
His team could barely watch, knowing all was lost
When he knocked it as far as they could see.

He pulled up to work on Monday morning.
A bunch of guys were waiting at the door.
They each shook his hand and said, ?We?ve been talkin?,
And we ain?t gonna call you that no more.?

?Home Run Harley? is what they called him
Yelling out his name.
Nothing he could say was going to change them.
He didn?t complain.
They handed him a bag -- it had a brand new t-shirt.
It said, ?Star of the Game.?
And to them, he was always ?Home Run Harley.?