In the Rough


Appropriate Poem; In The Rough

Hows your handicap Now

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Driving up the fairway feeling shore shore shore

Hole the birdy not the rough its sore sore sore

A hole in one is just for fun roar roar roar

Mark their card to keep the score more more more

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In the rough with a little woody find the door door door

Dont drop it now your on the green core core core

No handicap for putting and holing she swore swore swore

She said your seven is iron, but can it grow more more more

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The gettaway crached when the wife went gheto its a chore chore chore

They say your upright when your laying the green what a bore bore bore

They say you bunkered one and eagled four four four

Waiting to see is there any more more more

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About Chris

Kinda out there and kinda in here ish? Or is that just all over the place then

Posted on December 7, 2009, in Blairing Truth. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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