At the golf course, I paid my Green Fees
Starter said, "You're next on the tee"
shot hit the fairway, but far from the green
It seems something is wrong with my swing

Lately I can't drive too far
That makes it quite hard to "par"
Maybe I am tryin' too hard
Whatever, it's sure screwed

The thought occurred that my form wasn't good
It landed dead; now I must hit a wood
It drives me nuts that I can't hit a drive
Hope I play better on the back nine

Not hitting my drives too far
Much less than two-hundred yards
Makes it hard to get a "par"
Get up and down in two

Real hard to do that, yeah

[instrumental break]

Eighteen holes without a par
Dealing with that is quite hard
Enjoyment of game is marred
Get home and I feel blue

My cart I steered on up the fairway
Dejected, pissed-off; was still far away
I swung real hard; ball did not go far
I threw down my three-iron and got in my cart

Swearing as I drove my cart
Will I ever make a "par"?
Second shot; must hit real hard
I swing and I missed, ooh

"Bleep", "bleep", and "bleep"; I'm mad
I played like "bleep"; that's bad
That's not too neat; that's sad
So now I shriek; I'm mad