on back nine we pass a tournament
they have music and speech on start
that's neat to give them that needed
self confidence and fire to get birdies
they have free ball, drinks and mulligans
not to mention power of handicap ratings
they are all dress up for the occasion
i don't seem to appreciate the cigars
the smell lingers and tends to choke me
i walk a little bit faster to get away
i don't know if my buddies notice me
actually we all played good on ten
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem