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  • 07-10-2002
    Klik hier om een link te hebben waarmee u dit artikel later terug kunt lezen.Donald The Dub

    Donald The Dub Composer(s): Rice - Frank Crumit Performer(s): Frank Crumit



    Listen to the tale of a stalwart male
    Who lost his well known Nanny
    Donald was his name and golf was the game
    That made him grey as his Granny

    He practised much but his style was such
    That his handicap stayed at thirty
    All the words he used when the ball he bruised
    Were nothing else than dirty

    In the locker room every night
    He’d sing of his awful plight

    Oh! The dirty little pill went rolling down the hill
    And rolled right into a bunker
    From there to the green I took thirteen
    And there by gosh I sunk ‘er

    I get no fun in the air and sun
    But down in the traps I labour
    I sweat and weep where the sand is deep
    Till I want to murder my neighbour

    (thwack!) Oh! Baby, look at that drive
    Wheee!
    Now whoa, whoa
    Whoa you… (out of bounds)
    Alright, caddy, give me another ball

    There was one great day that came his way
    His score he was sure to diminish
    Never had such form, then up came a storm
    He was never able to finish

    He had a slice that was far from nice
    From him it never parted
    Once a year that shot, believe it or not
    Came right back where it started

    Do you wonder that he groans
    And sighs and wails and moans

    Oh! The dirty little pill went rolling down the hill
    And rolled right into the water
    And the reason it would seem, I lifted my beam
    When I know I shouldn’t oughter

    Then I hit a shot that I liked a lot
    But it sailed right into the marshes
    And I wished right then, like a lot of other men
    That I had worn my galoshes

    Hey, Donald, how many shots did you take over in that rock pile?
    Let me see, one two three, er six I believe
    Oh! You dirty so-and-so
    I counted twelve time I heard your club hit something
    Well, er, the other six were echoes
    (hee hee)

    Now Donald the Dub joined the country club
    And found a fellow duffer
    Just as bad as he, so with shouts of glee
    They started out to suffer

    They played nine holes, and the poor little moles
    Were never scared so badly
    For the divots flew, and the cuss words too
    And the birds and the bees left gladly

    As the end of the day drew nigh
    Came a song that was sung with a sigh

    Oh! The dirty little pill went rolling down the hill
    And rolled right into the club house
    When I got there with sand in my hair
    They changed it’s name to the Dub house

    I’ve wrecked more ground than Columbus found
    And the guy that I am after
    Is the crazy scot who invented this plot
    That’s robbed all the world of laughter

    Now Donald the Dub broke club after club
    As he told the world goodbye
    For he suffered every hour when his game went sour
    Even as you and I





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    The lyrics in this collection are mostly by longtime established artists and/or authors from the 30's, 40's, 50's, 60's, 70's.
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    We zoeken deze teksten (we're looking for):
    --> De Trein Naar Schellebelle
    --> Der Weg Ins Land Der Liebe
    --> Ela-Ela/Popcorn/Ding Dong Bell (Medley)
    --> Mirror
    --> My Song, My Love
    --> Semester I Rom

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