The Tragic Met-suary

As the Gothic Archies sing:

It gets dark around here early
Because of all the crows
What they want and where they came from
No one really knows
Crows are sour and surly
With reason, I suppose

There are crows, crows, crows in the trees
Saying crows things, doing as they please
There are crows, crows, crows everywhere
But when I think of you, dear, I don't care
There are crows, crows, crows in the trees
Saying crows things, doing as they please
There are crows, crows, crows everywhere
But when I think of you, dear, I don't care

It gets light around slowly
Because of how it goes
Every day we hear the same dumb list of those crows' woes
Thinking they're so holy while leaving mementos

There are crows, crows, crows in the trees
Saying crow things, doing as they please
There are crows, crows, crows everywhere
But when I think of you, dear, I don't care

I don't care because I know you love me
Unlike all crows lurking above me...

Now just replace crows with cardinals and you're all set for a Metsian Series of Unfortunate Events (AKA, Not the World Series). C'mon, I mean Yadier Molina?