IN MY HAND I HOLD A BALL,
WHITE AND DIMPLED, RATHER SMALL.

*OH, HOW BLAND IT DOES APPEAR,
THIS HARMLESS LOOKING LITTLE SPHERE.

*BY IT'S SIZE I COULD NOT GUESS,
THE AWESOME STRENGTH IT DOES POSSESS.

* NOW SINCE I FELL BENEATH ITS SPELL,
I'VE WANDERED THROUGH THE FIRES OF HELL.

*MY LIFE HAS NOT BEEN QUITE THE SAME,
SINCE I CHOSE TO PLAY THIS STUPID GAME.

*IT RULES MY MIND FOR HOURS ON END,
A FORTUNE IT HAS MADE ME SPEND.

*IT HAS MADE ME YELL, CURSE AND CRY,
I HATE MYSELF AND WANT TO DIE.

*IT PROMISES A THING CALLED PAR,
IF I CAN HIT IT STRAIGHT AND FAR.

*TO MASTER SUCH A TINY BALL,
SHOULD NOT BE VERY HARD AT ALL.

*BUT MY DESIRES THE BALL REFUSES,
AND DOES EXACTLY AS IT CHOOSES.

*IT HOOKS AND SLICES, DRIBBLES AND DIES,
AND EVEN DISAPPEARS BEFORE MY EYES.

*OFTEN IT WILL HAVE A WHIM,
TO HIT A TREE OR TAKE A SWIM.

*WITH MILES OF GRASS ON WHICH TO LAND,
IT FINDS A TINY PATCH OF SAND.

*THEN HAS ME OFFERING UP MY SOUL,
IF ONLY IT WOULD FIND THE HOLE.

*IT'S MADE ME WHIMPER LIKE A PUP,
AND SWEAR THAT I WILL GIVE IT UP.

*AND TAKE TO DRINK TO EASE MY SORROW,
BUT THE BALL KNOWS ...



 I'LL BE BACK TOMORROW