Wee Willy
It's bad, you know
In My Hand I Hold A Ball, White And Dimpled, And Rather Small.
Oh How Bland It Does Appear, This Harmless Looking Little Sphere.
By Its Size I Could Not Guess, Of The Awesome Strength It Does Possess.
But Since I Fell Beneath Its Spell, I've Wandered Through The Fires Of Hell.
My Life Has Not Been Quite The Same, Since I Chose To Play This Stupid Game.
It Rules My Mind For Hours On End, A Fortune It Has Made Me Spend.
It Has Made Me Curse And Made Me Cry, And Hate Myself And Want To Die.
It Promises Me A Thing Called Par, If I Hit It Straight And Far.
To Master Such A Tiny Ball, Should Not Be Very Hard At All.
But My Desires The Ball Refuses; It Does Exactly As It Chooses.
It Hooks And Slices, Dribbles And Dies, And Disappears Before My Eyes.
Often It Will Have A Whim, To Hit A Tree Or Take A Swim.
With Miles Of Grass On Which To Land, It Finds A Tiny Patch Of Sand.
Then Has Me Offering Up My Soul, If Only It Would Find The Hole.
It's Made Me Whimper Like A Pup, And Swear That I Will Give It Up.
And Take To Drink To Ease My Sorrow, But The Ball Knows ... I'll Be Back Tomorrow. [Amen]
<-><-><-><-><-><-><-><-><-><-><-><-><->
*Stand proud you noble swingers of club and losers of balls*
*A recent study found the average golfer walks about 900 miles a year.*
*Another study found golfers drink, on average, 22 gallons of alcohol a year.*
*That means, on average, golfers get about 41 miles to the gallon, about the same as the typical FJR.*
Cheers,
W2
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