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DONALD THE DUB (Rice / Crumit) Frank Crumit Listen to the tale of a stalwart male Who lost his well known Nanny Donald was his name and golf was the game That made him grey as his Granny He practised much but his style was such That his handicap stayed at thirty All the words he used when the ball he bruised Were nothing else than dirty. In the locker room every night He’d sing of his awful plight Oh! The dirty little pill went rolling down the hill And rolled right into a bunker From there to the green I took thirteen And there by gosh I sunk ‘er. I get no fun in the air and sun But down in the traps I labour I sweat and weep where the sand is deep Till I want to murder my neighbour. (Spoken) (thwack!) Oh! Baby, look at that drive. Wheee! Now whoa, whoa. Whoa you… (out of bounds) Alright, caddy, give me another ball. There was one great day that came his way His score he was sure to diminish Never had such form, then up came a storm He was never able to finish He had a slice that was far from nice From him it never parted Once a year that shot, believe it or not Came right back where it started. Do you wonder that he groans And sighs and wails and moans. Oh! The dirty little pill went rolling down the hill And rolled right into the water And the reason it would seem, I lifted my beam When I know I shouldn’t oughter. Then I hit a shot that I liked a lot But it sailed right into the marshes And I wished right then, like a lot of other men That I had worn my galoshes. (spoken) Hey, Donald, how many shots did you take over in that rock pile? Let me see, one two three, er six I believe Oh! You dirty so-and-so. I counted twelve time I heard your club hit something Well, er, the other six were echoes. (hee hee) Now Donald the Dub joined the country club And found a fellow duffer Just as bad as he, so with shouts of glee They started out to suffer. They played nine holes, and the poor little moles Were never scared so badly For the divots flew, and the cuss words too And the birds and the bees left gladly As the end of the day drew nigh Came a song that was sung with a sigh Oh! The dirty little pill went rolling down the hill And rolled right into the club house When I got there with sand in my hair They changed it’s name to the Dub house. I’ve wrecked more ground than Columbus found And the guy that I am after Is the crazy scot who invented this plot, That’s robbed all the world of laughter Now Donald the Dub broke club after club As he told the world goodbye For he suffered every hour when his game went sour Even as you and I. (Transcribed by Bill Huntley - November 2004)

    


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