(Warren Zevon and Mitch Albom)

He was born in Big Beaver by the borderline

He started playing hockey by the time he was nine

His dad took the hose and froze the back yard

And Little Buddy dreamed he was Rocket Richard

He grew up big and he grew up tough

He saw himself scoring for the Wings or Canucks

But he wasn't that good with a puck



Buddy's real talent was beating people up

His heart wasn't in it but the crowd ate it up

Through pee-wee's and juniors, midgets and mites

He must have racked up more than six hundred fights

A scout from the flames came down from Saskatoon

Said, "There's always room on our team for a goon

Son, we've always got room for a goon"



There were Swedes to the left of him

Russians to the right

A Czech at the blue line looking for a fight

Brains over brawn-that might work for you

But what's a Canadian farm boy to do

What else can a farm boy from Canada to do

But what's a Canadian farm boy to do

What else can a farm boy from Canada to do



Hit somebody! was what the crowd roared

When Buddy the goon came over the boards

"Coach," he'd say, "I wanna score goals"

The coach said, "Buddy, remember your role

The fast guys get paid, they shoot, they score

Protect them, Buddy, that's what you're here for



Protection is what you're here for

Protection-it's the stars that score

Protection-kick somebody's ass

Protection-don't put the biscuit in the basket just

Hit some, Buddy! it rang in his ears

Blood on the ice ran down through the years

The king of the goons with a box for a throne

A thousand stitches and broken bones

He never lost a fight on his icy patrol

But deep inside, Buddy only d