Golf on the West Coast

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.