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NWO Golf Links
Ode to Golf
A L L A N B E R M A N
In My Hand I Hold A Ball,
White And Dimpled...Rather Small.
Oh, How Bland It Does Appear,
This Harmless Looking Little Sphere.
By Its Size I Could Not Guess
The Awesome Strength It Doth 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 Game.
It Rules My Mind For Hours On End;
A Fortune It Has Made Me Spend.
Made Me Curse, As Well As, Cry,
I Hate Myself, And Want To Die.
It Promises A Thing Called Par,
If I Should Hit It Straight And Far.
To Master Such A Tiny Ball,
Should Not Be Very Hard At All.
My Desires, The Ball Refuses,
And Doth Exactly As It Chooses.
It Hooks, 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.
I Take To Drink To Ease My Sorrow,
But, The Ball it Knows…
I’ll Be Back Tomorrow.