“The songs are so good.”  
— NEXT Magazine

When I was a little boy,

I was Daddy’s pride and joy.

He would crow and fawn at everything I did.


There was no task I couldn’t master.

Want it fast?  I’d do it faster.

I was outperforming every other kid.


Then my world came crashing down,

And I lost my young renown,

When my father took me to the tennis courts

So this “firebrand” could try ‘er hand at sports. 


What a shock!  What dismay!

As an athlete, I was fey!!

Poor ole dad just stood there downing Seconals.


Couldn’t lob.  I couldn’t hit.

And my serves weren’t worth a shit. 

I learned that day I’m just no good with… balls.



Just imagine my surprise.

This would be my sure demise.

See, my wrist was growing limper every day.


Although I was being taunted,

Seems my father was undaunted

And he signed me up for baseball right away.


On the diamond things got worse.

Kids would jeer and Coach would curse.

‘Cause I held my glove as if it was a purse.

Oh, the irony was lost on me at first.


It’s the balls!  That was clear.

I was just your standard queer.

Being so cliché’s the part that really galls.


If a sphere came into play

I would scream and run away!

I have to say I’m just no good with balls.



Now, I tried some sports in school.

I felt mostly like a tool.

‘Cause a pop-up fly would scare me half to death.


Playing hoops gave me a blister.

And I threw just like my sister.

Who could catch a ball? 

I could barely catch my breath!


There’s no doubt I was a putz.

All the pressure drove me nuts.

I was voted “Boy Most Likely to Unhinge!”

It’s depressing adolescing on the fringe.


It’s the balls!  What a crock!

Sure I looked great in a jock.

But I knew I wasn’t built for this at all.


Though my body looked the part.

I was just a girl at heart.

I must say, I’m just no good with balls.



Momma said, “Don’t worry son,

Once you find your niche, honey, you’ll have won.

All you have to do is join the proper team.”


I just knew that someday I would shine

And revenge would be mine.

That’s the secret wish in every gay man’s dream.



Back at school I saw the light

In the locker room one night.

Nearly everyone had gone their sep’rate ways.


There was me and Billy Sonder —

Whose blue eyes began to wander.

Soon we found ourselves exploring “other plays.”


Then the clouds began to lift

And I felt a seismic shift.

I had skills where other players had been stiffed.

What I had was not a talent, but a gift!


Then I knew Mom was right.

Clues were hiding in plain sight

And I found my answer in the shower stalls!


As a jock, I’m just a joke

But where other players choke,

I am really very good —

Quite a champion with the wood —

Now, I’m very, very good with balls



copyright: Miloscia Music

Music by Kenneth Kacmar

from “Boys WIll Be Boys”

Balls

TO LISTEN CLICK HERE


Performed by

Josh Franklin


Accompaniment by Wendy Bobbitt Cavett

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All Lyrics by Joe Miloscia