O! Wee second baseman, you've made a city fall in love
Despite your non-existent power and mediocre glove
Your eye black shines just so in the sacred Fenway lights
A testament to hustle, to playing the game right
You've a heart the size of Eckstein
Leadership like Lo Duc
A gutsy mentality, a gritty vitality
And the feisty toughness of the Youk
But still, young Dustin, one puzzlement remains
One befuddlement that lingers in my brain
Yon Coco Crisp has your same set of skills
The steely eyes, the love of bunting drills
Yet young Mr. Crisp will soon be run out of town
For, alas! Alack! His skin is brown
