The President claims a Mulligan
His ball is in the rough.
The President demands a Mulligan
His ball’s gone out of bounds.
The President has threatened Mulligan
His ball is lost
(in the wilderness of ground under repair).
He set his sights on an Albatross,
he’d even have claimed an Eagle,
but the longer he stood with his mates on the tee
the more false his handicap grew.
The President stuttered
The President muttered
The President uttered
“This game’s been fixed, this fourball’s unfair
I’ve been gazumped for sure.
I’ll mark your card, I’ll sign my own
I’m President of this Club,
that all that matters to me.
Oh Captain, I’m Captain, My fearless trip is done,
My ship has weather’d every rack, the prize I’m owed is won.
The House is near, the cheers I hear, the people all exulting,
My eyes are red and basking true , my Trumpets bright and daring;
But O heart! heart! heart!
O my bleeding drops of red,
See on the deck those cheaters lie,
with obscene fools and dead.
I am your Ryder Cup,
Born true to win and sup,
With flags and faith
Bells, bouquets, wreaths and scathe
I’ve played the better golf,
I even own the course,
and built the TV towers.
Exalt my Partners
Decry the other side
To Hell with their merriment
Their game’s forever spent.
I’ll play on
through night and day
through dawn & dusk
to the bitter end
Until all the Links are broken,
Courses strewn with rakes & flagsticks,
Greenkeeper’s gone
begging for another apprenticeship.
I’ll play on
I’m the winner
I don’t need an opponent
I don’t even need golf clubs
I am that good
Your mind’s too slim
Your heart’s a virus.
The Royal & Ancient game was never better
than when I built the course
and wrote the Rules,
than when my handicap was Gaga
and on my crown was MAGA.“
The President still swings his club, his caddie gone
His ball is running out.
He’s on his knees
Praying for a Mulligan.
From Bath to Cork with baby Grace 