AR (3-2-1945 / California)


Ode to Tiger Woods, my hero no more

I must confess
I had these transgressions on the golf course
I knew the rules going in
And I went in swinging from the heels
I putted around
Played with my balls
Even kissed them for good luck
I laid up when I should have used my driver
Now these transgressions won’t get me out of the woods (sic)
And I don’t want them publicized
That would make me look like I was playing in the rough
Every now and then I use my long iron very well
It brings an ah! from the crowd
My woody is my best friend, has got me out of many a jam
Now I feel like I’m in a sand trap
And don’t want to hit a tree with my next shot
Yes I’m sorry for of these transgressions
But I’ll just keep my scorecard in my back pocket

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