Sunday, June 5, 2011


Umbrageous Sanctuary

Ninety-eight on the Lowbottom links
it’s whack the ball and hunt for shade
screw off the cap from your Gator Aide
‘cause for heat like this we wasn’t made

It’ don’t matter none it’s hot as hell
and we ain’t got a deep water well
cause we’re smashin’ the ball and all is swell
out here on the scorched Lowbottom links

It’s all about golf and playin’ some skins
tellin’ lies with the guys ‘bout alla our sins
so Hades hot or not it’s a bunch of frien’s
communin' with the golf Gods on the Lowbottom links

Usta be a pig farm these Lowbottom links
so when it rains the whole golf course stinks
‘cause years of pig poo mixed in the dirt
comes back to life causin’ one’s nose to hurt

So let us not bitch about this ungodly heat
‘cause it’s savin’ us from an awful treat
an olfactory assault that will leave us beat
out here on Sunday on the Lowbottom links

We can play in the sun and not be undone
so long as we seek us a shelter where we find one
and we’re more than happy it ain’t gonna rain
here in umbrageous comfort on the Lowbottom links

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