The light cascading from the dewy verges Signals to the guy upon the tee its shit or bust A brand spanking Dunlop screams into the hedgerow And a luckless flock of starlings bite the dust The beautifilly maintained expanse of emerald fairway That glides into the distance has him vexed He draws an ancient five in a vicelike grip And ploughs the bugger up from one end to the next Facing extradition To the forestry comission J.C.B. precision Graces every shot Passing gulls hes winging Manically hes swinging Like an Amphetaminecrazed Terry Scott A sound, not unlike a squid in a Zanussi Emits from where the bloke has gained in two A lethal glint of eightiron, volley of expletives The flight of the divots long and true Chequd flares flapping in the wind Animated, as he chinned the bloke enquiring If he took any drugs The retaliation of a putter in the spuds Made him splutter Cracking lips like petrified slugs Now he seldom ever makes a fuss With a customized Trevino truss Hes grasped the fundamentals And his handicap is slowly coming down
bloke, he, beautifilly, trevino, chequd