SliceCo
JrOnHisGrind
[Verse 1]
Marco stands on the seventh tee with his driver gripped too tight
The grass is wet from morning and his hands are cold
His friends are halfway down the fairway, talking about last night
He swings and watches where it lands, twenty yards from the cart
[Chorus]
They wait for him at every green
Never once turned around to leave
The ball doesn't fly the way he wants it to
But they measure every round in something else
[Verse 2]
He's tried new grips and different clubs, watched videos in his den
Practiced at the range until his shoulders burned
But Sunday comes and nothing's changed, he's hitting short again
They hand him his putter and say let's see you sink this one
[Chorus]
They wait for him at every green
Never once turned around to leave
The ball doesn't fly the way he wants it to
But they measure every round in something else
[Bridge]
There's a photo in the clubhouse from nineteen ninety-two
Four men standing by their bags, younger then
Marco's in the middle, smiling at the lens
Distance isn't always measured down the fairway
[Chorus]
They wait for him at every green
Never once turned around to leave
The ball doesn't fly the way he wants it to
But they measure every round in something else
[Outro]
They measure every round in something else
Versions
SliceCo (Version A)
JrOnHisGrind
Version A
SliceCo (Version B)
JrOnHisGrind
Version B