The orange dust glows
Rising in smoky curls
Divided by crisp white lines
Superstition
Over takes my thoughts
Grass brushing my cleats
Throat sour from screaming
Half deaf from screaming
Half blind from believing
Half broken from scoring
Superstition
Steals my breath
Every cheer goes to you
The girl playing
Every song
Goes to the Lord watching
My hands pat
The fence
My pants
My glove
My water bottle
My bat
Anything to keep them busy
We want it more
To left and right we scream
Two-out everything
Rally
Rally
We spell out simple words
We cheer
We want this game
