Though eloquence may be a boon,
’Tis best to hold thy tongue;
How many men who spoke too soon,
Too much, have thus been hung?
The famous police interview,
Cast often on a wish,
A fleeting fancy to pursue,
But it costs naught to fish.
For so are revered scholars trapped,
And learning is a sham
If, by its course, one’s doom is mapped,
Far better be a clam.
The moron who has naught to say
Fares well, not so the boffin
Who, with his every pun and play,
Nails down his open coffin.
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