Ken's an uncle least that's what we call him
He's not a real uncle, you know
He's just a bloke that me Dad used to work with
Anyway, it was him that knew this bloke, Joe

He was a golfer this bloke, dead keen, all the gear
Played a round every day if he could
He had a handicap apparently, means nowt to me
But to golfers it seems it's quite good

He always did well all the way round the course
Till he got alongside Haggies Burn
It was the ninth hole and it proved a real problem
Par three with a bit of a turn

With the woods really tight along one side
And the river close by on the other
No matter how much he lined up his shot
He always got into bother

It was the same every time he got to the tee
His stomach it started to churn
Cos he knew no matter how hard he tried
He would slice the ball into the burn

He would practice his swing any time that he could
It was straight as a laser beam
But as soon as he got to the tee at the ninth
He would whack it straight into the stream

He got videos and books, took lessons and that
From this bloke that went out with his daughter
His confidence was high when he got to the ninth
But the ball always went in the water

Now his golfing improved he could really play well
He'd a swing of great style and panache
But when he got to the ninth it all went to pot
He'd close his eyes and wait for the splash

This phenomenon continued the rest of his life
No matter how hard the bloke tried
He kept knocking the ball in the river
Right up till the day that he died

In his will he said he wanted cremating
And his ashes scattered on the fairway
So his wife complied with his wishes
And took the urn to the course the next day

She walked round the course and found somewhere nice
The ninth fairway just past the turn
She said a short prayer and opened the lid
Then the ashes blew into the burn.