This is the tale of some poor sons of bitches

Hauling golf bags for some douches with riches

All the wealth in the world, but not a lot of heart

They insist on walking when they could just take a cart

Young and dumb, just some teenagers

Loops in the morning, after some ragers

Stumble up to the first tee at the crack of dawn

Shake a few hands and let out a yawn

Dude with the driver, slices into the rough

One shot in and I’ve already had enough

On the third tee, I start to feel a headache

Just as my guy tops one into the lake

He blames it on the club as he freaks out

Throwing a fit, he curses and shouts

On the fifth tee box, he rips a wicked hook

Went in the long grass, so I pretend to look

2 hours in, my skin starts to burn

2 hours in, I’d rather be in an urn

On the ninth green, waiting for them to putt

Just then I feel something rumble in my gut

Taking their sweet time to make their hit

Dear god hurry up so I can go take a shit

Sprint down the path and into the bag room

Kid acting busy inside, pushing a broom

Round the corner and lock the door

What happens inside is a scene of gore

Wash my hands and adjust my hat

Can’t wait to tell the fellas about that.

Walk back out, “Hey kid, want some food?”

I’d puke on my bib, so I’m not in the mood

Hoist up the bags, the two that are mine

The possibility of death on the back nine

12th tee, “Please not left” I hope and pray

Straight into the woods, it’s that kind of day

Bugs and gnats, flying into my face

Sweating and swatting as I try to keep pace

Struggle up the hill to the 15th tee

Exhausted and defeated, so I take a knee

Seriously regretting what I did last night

Just then in the distance, the clubhouse in sight

Forgive me lord, for I know I have sinned

At that moment I’m blessed with a gust wind

Squat to read a putt, and make my best guess

Good tip if he makes it, if not I get less

A firm stroke he gives it, we watch the ball roll

Pretend that I care as it lips into the hole

A swift high five and a pat on the back

The only good shot all day out of this hack

Put the pin in, to the next tee we go

The worst of them all, the 18th hole

So close to the end, we’re right on the brink

Until the first guy goes straight in the drink

Wounded and whipped, beaten and battered

In a matter of hours, my confidence shattered

They chip and they putt, it’s finally over

By this time I think I’m finally sober

Back to the bag room to sit and wait

As members get cash to pay our rate

“I think the tip is good” I’m told by the guys

He brings a stack of twenties, I look at the size

Without counting, I tuck it all away

Walking through the lot, calling it a day

Back in my car, I hope to be thrilled

On top of the usual, just a $5 bill

“Why do I do this?” I say to nobody

Take off my shoes, stinky and muddy

Sweat and filth make my clothes all ratty

Another day in the life of being a caddy

In collaboration with D-Schep and Big Al