fine summer evening, a breeze in the air
We see on a golf course our drummer fair
He lays down his golf ball and takes a big swing
What a jolly good shot, how far flies the thing!
His eyes follow after and notice the fall
He crosses the lawn to again strike the ball.
It seems that
his ball went into the hedges
Hmm, no, it's not there, he only gets scratches
He turns up each leaf, be it large or just small
But still he's unlucky, no sight of his ball.
He gropes in
the grass, peeks behind a large tree
Scans all the bushes, but his ball he can't see.
Silently cursing, he climbs on a wall
But, fuck my old boots, he can't find his ball.
he goes poking out in the lake
After all it's his golf ball that is here at stake.
All dripping wet he decides to crawl
Into the berries to find that damn ball.
his head and looks all around
To the left and the right, no ball can be found
To his dismay, he can't really recall
Whereto exactly he shot that 'kin ball.
quickly, first dusk and then dawn
Most people are sleeping, but Nick scans the lawn
He searches through summer, he searches through fall
The search is in vain: he can't find his ball!
At last, all
exhausted, he falls to his knees
He's ready to give up, when guess what he sees?
He stares in amazement and cries: "Bless my soul!
Now would you believe it, the ball's in the hole!"
April 13th 2004)