The Ballad of Humming Curves

For the music, I hear this in 6/8 time, around 110–120 BPM, with fiddle, tin whistle, acoustic guitar, bodhrán, upright bass and perhaps accordion, Start with a dignified solo male voice—as though he's about to recount an ancient Irish legend—then bring in an increasingly enthusiastic male chorus on “Ohhhh, Humming Curves!” The spoken “Bring, Plenty, Of, Balls, ” should be delivered with ridiculous ceremonial gravity, Could you make it a little more melodious and not have spoken parts

The Ballad of Humming Curves
An exceedingly dignified golf anthem for a thoroughly undignified hole
[Verse 1]
Come gather round, ye golfers bold, and hear a tale absurd,
Of a mighty course in Mosel where the sheep out number birds.
Just south of famous Whistling Straits, where champions test their nerves,
There lies a sterner challenge, lads — the dreaded Humming Curves.
They whistle up at Kohler, with their bunkers, dunes and fame,
But down the road we hum a bit — it’s really much the same.
They've got the Straits, they've got the Irish, two courses full of verve,
We've got one hole — but what a hole! — at lovely Humming Curves!
[Refrain]
Ohhhh, Humming Curves! Humming Curves!
Where a golfer gets what he deserves!
By Michigan's shore, you'll shout “FORE!” once more,
And pray that your little white ball returns.
So steady your knees, aim over the trees,
And summon whatever courage serves —
For it takes a lot of balls, my friends,
To play at Humming Curves!
[Verse 2]
Now Pete Dye built the Straits up north, a masterpiece, they say,
Where Tiger, Phil and Rory came to test their mighty play.
And Jordan Spieth has walked those links where Lake Michigan swerves —
But have they faced the fearsome green that waits at Humming Curves?
They hosted there the Ryder Cup with glory, flags and cheers,
A spectacle remembered through the long Wisconsin years.
But we possess a trophy too that rattles golfing nerves:
The highly, deeply coveted Buddy Cup of Humming Curves!
[Refrain]
Ohhhh, Humming Curves! Humming Curves!
Where a golfer gets what he deserves!
By Michigan's shore, you'll shout “FORE!” once more,
And pray that your little white ball returns.
So steady your knees, aim over the trees,
And summon whatever courage serves —
For it takes a lot of balls, my friends,
To play at Humming Curves!
[Verse 3]
Our sheep patrol the fairway with an Irish sense of pride,
They trim the grass, inspect your stance, and quietly deride.
No greenskeeper could equal them, no mower quite preserves
The emerald sophistication found at Humming Curves.
The orchard waits, the sand traps grin, the lake breeze starts to blow,
You take your stance with confidence — but where the ball will go, who knows?
A par three sounds so simple till your backswing starts to swerve,
And another Titleist joins the flowers somewhere at Humming Curves.
[Spoken Interlude — very solemnly]
Ladies and gentlemen...
The official advice of Humming Curves is simple:
Bring. Plenty. Of. Balls.
This is not pessimism.
This is course management.
[Verse 4]
Herb Kohler's played these hallowed grounds, and McGrail's taken aim,
Nord and Rick the Larsons too have entered golfing fame.
Joe McGrain and Chris Stallmann faced the destiny each serves,
And lived to tell their grandchildren:
“I played the Humming Curves.”
Michael Jordan had his glory, Tony Romo had his day,
But reputations matter little when the pin is tucked away.
For legends may be legends where the Straits dramatically curves —
But we measure greatness differently down here at Humming Curves.
[Bridge — slower, grand and sentimental]
Oh, Lake Michigan is shining,
And the sheep are grazing still,
There's a little flag that's waving
By the orchard on the hill.
No galleries by the thousands,
No television crews —
Just one small green, one mighty dream...
And seven balls to lose.
[Final Refrain — faster, everyone joins in]
Ohhhh, Humming Curves! Humming Curves!
Where a golfer gets what he deserves!
By Michigan's shore, we'll shout “FORE!” once more,
As dignity rapidly disperses!
Let Whistling boast of Ryder Cups,
Of champions, Straits and nerves —
We've got sheep, one hole, the BuddyCup,
And the glorious Humming Curves!
[Repeat — louder]
Yes, it takes a lot of balls, my friends,
It takes a lot of nerve —
It takes a lot of balls, my friends,
To play at Humming Curves!
[Big finish]
HUMMMMMMMMMING... CURRRRRRVES!
[Spoken, after the music stops]
“Has anybody seen my ball?”

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The Ballad of Humming Curves An exceedingly dignified golf anthem for a thoroughly undignified hole [Verse 1] Come gather round, ye golfers bold, and hear a tale absurd, Of a mighty course in Mosel where the sheep out number birds. Just south of famous Whistling Straits, where champions test their nerves, There lies a sterner challenge, lads — the dreaded Humming Curves. They whistle up at Kohler, with their bunkers, dunes and fame, But down the road we hum a bit — it’s really much the same. They've got the Straits, they've got the Irish, two courses full of verve, We've got one hole — but what a hole! — at lovely Humming Curves! [Refrain] Ohhhh, Humming Curves! Humming Curves! Where a golfer gets what he deserves! By Michigan's shore, you'll shout “FORE!” once more, And pray that your little white ball returns. So steady your knees, aim over the trees, And summon whatever courage serves — For it takes a lot of balls, my friends, To play at Humming Curves! [Verse 2] Now Pete Dye built the Straits up north, a masterpiece, they say, Where Tiger, Phil and Rory came to test their mighty play. And Jordan Spieth has walked those links where Lake Michigan swerves — But have they faced the fearsome green that waits at Humming Curves? They hosted there the Ryder Cup with glory, flags and cheers, A spectacle remembered through the long Wisconsin years. But we possess a trophy too that rattles golfing nerves: The highly, deeply coveted Buddy Cup of Humming Curves! [Refrain] Ohhhh, Humming Curves! Humming Curves! Where a golfer gets what he deserves! By Michigan's shore, you'll shout “FORE!” once more, And pray that your little white ball returns. So steady your knees, aim over the trees, And summon whatever courage serves — For it takes a lot of balls, my friends, To play at Humming Curves! [Verse 3] Our sheep patrol the fairway with an Irish sense of pride, They trim the grass, inspect your stance, and quietly deride. No greenskeeper could equal them, no mower quite preserves The emerald sophistication found at Humming Curves. The orchard waits, the sand traps grin, the lake breeze starts to blow, You take your stance with confidence — but where the ball will go, who knows? A par three sounds so simple till your backswing starts to swerve, And another Titleist joins the flowers somewhere at Humming Curves. [Spoken Interlude — very solemnly] Ladies and gentlemen... The official advice of Humming Curves is simple: Bring. Plenty. Of. Balls. This is not pessimism. This is course management. [Verse 4] Herb Kohler's played these hallowed grounds, and McGrail's taken aim, Nord and Rick the Larsons too have entered golfing fame. Joe McGrain and Chris Stallmann faced the destiny each serves, And lived to tell their grandchildren: “I played the Humming Curves.” Michael Jordan had his glory, Tony Romo had his day, But reputations matter little when the pin is tucked away. For legends may be legends where the Straits dramatically curves — But we measure greatness differently down here at Humming Curves. [Bridge — slower, grand and sentimental] Oh, Lake Michigan is shining, And the sheep are grazing still, There's a little flag that's waving By the orchard on the hill. No galleries by the thousands, No television crews — Just one small green, one mighty dream... And seven balls to lose. [Final Refrain — faster, everyone joins in] Ohhhh, Humming Curves! Humming Curves! Where a golfer gets what he deserves! By Michigan's shore, we'll shout “FORE!” once more, As dignity rapidly disperses! Let Whistling boast of Ryder Cups, Of champions, Straits and nerves — We've got sheep, one hole, the BuddyCup, And the glorious Humming Curves! [Repeat — louder] Yes, it takes a lot of balls, my friends, It takes a lot of nerve — It takes a lot of balls, my friends, To play at Humming Curves! [Big finish] HUMMMMMMMMMING... CURRRRRRVES! [Spoken, after the music stops] “Has anybody seen my ball?”

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