Then there's the late Al Grierson's "Sunday Way Up Yonder" in which a celestial round of golf is played by God Himself.

To be found on his CD "Things That Never Added Up To Me" (Folkin' Eh! 0001 and later reissued on Folk Era. Probably both out of print, but worth the search)


SUNDAY WAY UP YONDER
(Tune: "Georgie On The FFV")


It was Sunday way up yonder
It was on the seventh hole
The Good Lord missed a birdie putt
And lost His self-control
The caddy lost his self esteem
But the clubhouse got the ball
When a twenty acre divot
Came tearing through the wall.

It rumbled through the kitchen
Like an epileptic whale.
It blew the needle off the top
Of Mr. Richter's Scale.
It broke the mirror on the bar
And busted all the stools
It even broke a little wind,
But never broke the rules.

It squeezed them like the vintage
Where the grapes of wrath are stored
'Cause they interfaced like insects
With the windshield Of The Lord
It treated all it came upon
With equal disrespect
It was fully liberated
And politicaly correct.

It scandalized the universe
It vandalized the stars
It wiped the face of Elvis
Off the other side of Mars
Then came back to the fingers
Of the Good Lord's waiting hand
Like a twenty acre yo-yo
On a cosmic rubber band

They knew that the insurance man
Was never going to pay
For Acts Of God or flying sod
Or random clods of clay
So they prayed with all their might
The Lord would save their souls
And take a smaller divot
When he played the other holes

A-A-Amen!