The Lord is my golf-cart
I shall not walk.
He maketh my drives to lie down
on the green: He leadeth me
beside the water hazard.
He restoreth my divots:
He leadeth me in the paths of the fairway
for His name's sake.
Yea, though I walk through
the valley of the shadow of Pebble Beach,
I will fear no dogleg:
for thou art with me;
thy wedge and thy niblick they comfort me.
Thou preparest a tee for me
in the presence of the Masters:
thou anointest my hands with rosin;
my putt runneth over to the cup
and dwells there.
Surely low greens fees
shall follow me all the days of my life;
and I will dwell in the clubhouse of the Lord for ever.