There's a caddy on tour and my putter he holds,
My shot's lying off the fairway on seven.
As it sits there I'm hosed, this lie snores out the nose,
Sunk a bird with no sweat back on hole four.
Ooh, ooh, and I'm lying off the fairway on seven.

There's a nine on my ball and I'm playing on tour,
And I think that my woods need some cleaning.
Hit a tree the shot hooked, it's a long wood that swings,
Sometimes none of my shots are forgiven.
Ohh, this makes three under.
Ohh, it takes three under.

When I'm kneeling I get feeling put to the test,
I don't fear it, this lie is deceiving.
There's been shots I have seen, swings missed, strokes off the tees,
Like the novice who blows his shots hooking.
Ooh, that makes three under,
Ooh, am I really now three under?

I'll be whimpering soon when my ball's in the dune,
I've been hyper now way since mid season.
This here green's like my lawn, I'm hosed can't putt long,
Hope this tour is still open hereafter.

If then your ball lands in a hedgerow, don't buy the farm now,
Adjust your swing clean, shoot for the green.
Yes, you can do math you can play by, this hole's a long one,
And don't whine just play the shot you're on.
And I'm still three under.

The leader's coming, he's a golf pro, in case you don't know,
I'm hyper falling in behind him.
Hey caddy, should I play this shot low, 'cause as you know,
This fairway lie's where I can't see the pin.

And as I wind up to explode,
Some shadows putting take their toll,
Then says my caddy, 'way to go',
This lie's quite slight the greens are slow,
Now that I'm going for the gold
So just don't tap it very hard,
That dune you managed to get past,
A hole in one will win it all,
Now I can walk to the last hole.

I was lying off the fairway on seven.