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Fourie
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Die Aapmens ......


« on: January 31, 2013, 04:12:41 PM »

Address tae the Golf Ball

Great Mischieftain o' the human race,
Weel are ye worthy o' a grace
As lang's you traivel straight.
Ye aim tae reach that distant hill
Nae bother tae play wi' skylark shrill.
The dinky dimples o' your saucy face
Should stay awa safe frae ills o' life,
The whins, waters, traps an' trail
That lie between us and our holy grail.
Ay ye sleekit, tyrannous, drunken beastie, gae straight!
Why the hell do ye gae left and richt?
Now don't squat there deep drowned in bunker
Like a stupid fried egg in stinker.
Poor devil, I'll gie ye one last chance
Tae be my trusty, couthy crony.
If ye wish tae prove yersel worthy o' my gratefu' prayer
For once, gae straight and get in there.
Amen, and grant me a day sae groovy
And a glorious-ever bonnie burdie.

*skaamteloos gecopy vanaf 'n fb blad*
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Ek is bly ek is nie 'n Stormer ondersteuner nie
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