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Intro: C F Am F G
C F Am G
Verse:
| C F | G F C F G F
This town ain't big, this town ain't small, It's a little of both they say.
Am F Am F Am F G
Our ball club may be minor league but at least it's triple A.
C F G F C F G F
We sit below the Marlboro man, above the right field wall.
Am F Am F Am F G
We do the wave all by ourself, Hey Ump, a blind man coulda made that call
G C F C F C
We like our beer flat as can be, We like our dogs with mustard and relish.
G C F C F C
We got a great pitcher what's his name, Well we can't even spell it.
G C F Am
We don't worry about the pennant much, We just like to see the boys hit it deep.
Am F G
There's nothing like the view from the cheap seats.
Intro: C F Am F G
C F Am G
Verse:
C F G F C F G F
The game was close, we'll call it a win, Go off to toast the boys again.
Am F Am F Am F G
That local band is back in town, They got a kinda minor league sound.
C F G F C F G F
They're not that bad, they're not that good, But all in all it's understood.
Am F Am F Am F G
We wanna dance, they wanna play, We wouldn't have it any other way.
Chorus:
Lead: C F Bb Am Cheap Seats
C F Bb G G
Verse:
C F G F C F G F
Now the majors called up oh what's his name, And one more buildin' rises tall.
Am F Am F Am F G
And suddenly we're all grown up, And this old town not quite so small.
C F G F C F G F
But I'll always miss the middle size town, In the middle of the middle-west.
Am F Am F Am F G
With no name pitchers and local bands, And mustard and relish and all the rest.
Chorus:
Intro:
Cheap seats
Written by Marcus Hummon/Randy Sharp