The Open

I'm going the Open in the Morning Dressed up and looking fine Come wind or rain Ill follow the Players Tee to Green covered in suncream More in hope than expectation Friday's cull will make the cut Who shall stay and those must wait Another year to pit there wit's against the elements The weather makes a champions fate A Claret Jug of immortality Silver Treasure few will own For a year the Champion Golfer Untold riches and sporting pages Ever know engraved thy name A Sporting God