And my story doesn't rise
Like a ripple on the tide
I think what might have been
The older of two brothers
and the first to break from home
after years down in the miners
called up to the Astrodome
Houston, I was warming in the pen
Skippers said it's time to come in
I took my warm -up tosses
and I felt something snap
and that was that I never made
That's where the story ought to end
And my story doesn't rise
Like a ripple on the tide
I think what might have been
The reason you might know my name
is because of my brother's fame
Three years passed by one
Robin got called up and he never let it go
After twenty years had passed
Three thousand hits had been amassed
Robin hit the hall of fame and immortality
Son Ben wrote a song about me
And my story doesn't rise
Like a ripple on the tide
I think what might have been
Sometimes at the holidays
we'll sit there with our kids
and walk past all the trophies
and ask about the things he did.
Uncle Robin, what's it like?
Uncle Robin, tell us more about the World
Series games and statistics and the scores.
Sometimes it tears me up inside.
Though I can't help but feel pride
Find them back in Houston
Thinking about the things
And my story doesn't rise
Like a ripple on the tide
I think what might have been