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Pacific fog still hangin' on the tees,
Sunrise glow like a crime scene breeze.
Starter nods like he knows my name,
Says "Gentlemen... play fast," yeah right, okay.
Grip it neutral, stare down the line,
Fairway bendin' left like destiny's spine.
Driver feels heavy, feels loaded with fate,
Like I'm clockin' a bank but it's hole number eight.
Wind off the ocean, salt in the air,
I'm not here for pars, I'm here for the dare.
Ball teed low, heart poundin' loud,
This ain't a scorecard... this is the crowd.
They say "play smart," keep it in play,
But legends don't lay up... legends don't wait.
Sun at my back, adrenaline hums,
I don't fear the bunker... I fear bein' done.
Golf on the West Coast, chase it or drown,
Blue water left, white stakes outta bounds.
Every swing feels illegal, every shot breaks the code,
I'm ridin' the line like Point Break stole my soul.
Hangin' ten on the tee box, lettin' it fly,
One bad bounce from the perfect goodbye.
Golf on the West Coast, no fear, no brakes,
I'm goin' for glory... or goin' full Point Break.
Pair me with strangers, they all look clean,
Sunburned smiles, somethin' mean underneath.
One guy talks softly, never shows cards,
Another swings easy... too easy, too hard.
They read greens like tides and breaks,
Talk about boards, not blades or rakes.
Say "Nice shot, bro," but I feel the test,
Like I just joined somethin' I wasn't meant to guess.
Par five ahead, dogleg by the cliffs,
Ocean eats balls, doesn't give 'em back, kid.
Lay up iron says, "Don't be dumb,"
But the driver whispers, "Bodhi would send this one."
Caddie voice in my head goes silent and still,
This is commitment... this is the thrill.
Once you swing free, there's no rewind,
You don't play defense on the edge of the line.
Golf on the West Coast, chase it or drown,
Wave crash tempo keepin' time with the round.
Every shot's a heist, every miss leaves a scar,
I'm robbin' the course with a beat-up three-wood heart.
Hangin' ten on the tee box, lettin' it fly,
One swing closer to the ultimate ride.
Golf on the West Coast, no fear, no brakes,
I'm goin' for birdies... or goin' full Point Break.
Back nine wind picks up, sky turns steel,
Rain comin' sideways, now it's gettin' real.
Rain gloves slick, rain hood half-zipped,
This is where belief either holds... or slips.
Sixteen's a carry you shouldn't try,
Ocean roarin' like a final goodbye.
Everyone says, "Play it safe, man,"
But safe never made anyone immortal, friend.
I see the line, I trust the flight,
Ball cuts wind like a knife through night.
If this is the end, let it end out loud,
I'm not goin' home... I'm jumpin' clouds.
Golf on the West Coast, stand up and leap,
Green lookin' tiny, ocean lookin' deep.
This ain't about score, it's the moment you take,
That split second hang before the wave breaks.
Flag flutters slow like a final call,
Ball lands soft... then starts to crawl.
Golf on the West Coast, I stared it down,
Didn't beat the course... but I never backed down.
Scorecard's wrinkled, shoes full of sand,
Salt on my face, club still in my hand.
Sun sinks low, Pacific goes black,
Some rides don't bring you back.
They ask, "How'd you play?" I just smile and say,
"I was perfect... for one wild day."