Oh Johan, my Johan Santana!
There's no one like Johan Santana!
Johan Santana!
Johan Santana!
Three cheers for Johan Santana!

He's where the Central begins.
Too bad the rest of the Twins
Will fall in a ditch
Forget how to pitch,
And fight to get fifty-five wins.

 
Been hearing that quite a few scribes
Have taken to picking the Tribe.
They should not be believed.
You're being decieved.
Those writers have all taken bribes.

The Millwood deal was a mistake.
When fluke years by Hafner and Blake
And Westbrook revert,
Then others get hurt,
It's fourth for the team at the Jake.

 
Though Percy was packing his bags
To join up with I-Rod and Maggs,
This team still is boring.
They'll have trouble scoring.
I doubt they will win any flags.

And while Bonderman's one to behold,
All of those veterans are old.
To not finish third
It is strongly preferred
That you have some young stars in your fold.

 
Get rid of the fat, slow, and surly!
The White Sox will run now, both early
and later,
A great run creator
To add to Garcia and Buehrle!

But will all of that speed be enough
To win a division so tough?
From what I have reckoned,
They'll still finish second,
They lack a few arms with good stuff.

 
Except for Santana the Twinkie
The pitcher who is the least stinky
Is a young pitcher who
Now wears Royal blue
And goes by the name of Zack Greinke.

And although their lineup's not pretty
Pena will have them be gritty.
They'll play the game right,
Win every key fight;
The Central will crown Kansas City.