Ever had a conversation, where you never had a doubt,
that the batter you are pitching to, is trying to wait you out?

You see it in his anxious eyes, he’s buried in the zone.
He’s pushing you to finish, with those helpful grunts and groans.

You may as well just wind it up, he’s chomping at the bit,
as for what you’re saying, he couldn’t give a shit.

And now he has his moment, he’ll give a mighty try,
to run the goddam clock out until he says goodbye.

He moves through every detail, turning every stone,
It’s verbal masturbation, he truly is alone.