We've been to the wars together. We took our foes as they came, and always you were the leader, and ever you played the game. Idol of cheering millions, records are yours by sheaves. Iron of frame they hailed you, decked you with laurel leaves. But higher than that we hold you, we who have known you best, knowing the way you came through every human test. Let this be a silent token of lasting friendships gleam, and all that we've left unspoken, your pals of the Yankees team. I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of the earth that I might have been given a bad grace, but I've got an awful lot to lift for. Thank you. You