Tigers, Tigers burning bright
In the ball parks of the night
Your pitching's fair, your field adroit,
So why no pennants for Detroit?

You blaze around the big league parks
With bats that fairly give off sparks,
But when they total up the score...
You've lost again to Baltimore.

The Cleveland Indians go to work.
They beat you good; so does New York.
When Boston adds a mortal blow,
All you can shout's "Look out below!"

Tigers, Tigers, burning bright
In the ball parks of the night.
Someday the fans will get their fill
And ship the team to Louisville.

(Mad Magazine, circa 1961)