(To the tune of "A Horse with No Name," by America. My apologies if it's been done before or if you just don't enjoy it.)
When I first got to the arroyo
I was lookin' for some kind of map
There were benches, a playground, trash cans and things
And a basket by the parking lot
From the tees I had to watch the trails with care,
Watch with a careful eye
There were joggers, bikers, dog walkers
That could be hit from the sky
I've played through the desert
Throwin' discs with no name
It felt good there in the morning time
In the desert you must remember your line
'Cause the bushes and the little trees just grab all the time
La, la, la, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la, la