Frank Crumit - Donald the Dub lyrics

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