Bucky runs the Pike Southern Golf Outing each year Old GMI drunks flew to Hilton Head for laughs and for beer We stayed at Doug's sister's, just looking for a bed Turns out it's the biggest mansion in all of Hilton Head
Bucky's Southern Pike golf outing, year seven with the crew Some golf, lots of beer, some stories might be true From forty up to sixty, it's the Pikes from GMI We laughed like the old days and drank the fridges dry
Bucky had two big houses rented for the boys He kept us fed and drunk so we could make a lot of noise Our frat-house elevator quit, the damn thing wouldn't budge Nobody gave a fuck—we took the stairs without a grudge
Friday was so fuckin' hot, swamp assed from head down to my toes Back at Bucky's frat house, I took a shower with all my clothes Some guys played like champions, made it look like such a breeze I sucked ass and spent my round apologizing to the trees
My bunk was in the game room, with loud casino sounds all night I tucked Nehilla for his nap and got him settled in just right Doug drank beer all day, then crashed before Jeopardy started He stayed in his top bunk all night—didn't notice that Teev farted
Teev took four shits that day and wore a giant grin He looked like all his prayers got answered every time he went back in Gerlach limped like a motherfucker, knee brace strapped on tight Then stepped up to the ball and hit the bastard out of sight
Bucky's Southern Pike golf outing, year seven with the crew Some golf, lots of beer, some stories might be true From forty up to sixty, it's the Pikes from GMI We laughed like the old days and drank the fridges dry
Friday night, the pool and hot tub kept us there for hours Eating, drinking, laughing, showing off these builds of ours We took a team picture, somehow every chest got bared Forty years ago, we had a lot less gut to be shared
Diegel told of pool-table sex back in our college days Some of us believed him, others questioned all his lays Every time he told it, he was quite the ladies' man We weren't sure of the details—or if that was just his hand
Chigas ran the euchre game till two beneath our roof We gave him shit all day and night—he's damn near bulletproof He took enough abuse to make a lesser fellow cry But underneath the bullshit, I love that fucking guy
On Saturday at Golden Bear, it was raining like a bitch The ranger brake-checked Chigas—we almost hit him in the hitch Juanita had us stack our dishes before we left the place We left the Leaning Tower of Pisa with beer cans and our plates
At Lincoln & South brewery, we headed straight inside We drank some beers and talked some shit while all our clothing dried Bucky ordered barbecue to feed the drunken, hungry pack The Brewers' wire catch fucked the Padres before we hit the sack
Bucky's Southern Pike golf outing, year seven with the crew Some golf, lots of beer, some stories might be true From forty up to sixty, it's the Pikes from GMI We laughed like the old days and drank the fridges dry
Here's to Bucky and the boys, let's raise another beer For all the shit we talked this time—and coming back next year Some came home with bragging rights, maybe won a prize But I'd take this bunch of assholes over any other guys
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