"Athlete of Wit"

by Dan Garrou

My friend told me the world will surely maime

Yet I never have been told I was smart

Approaches the maiden, tender as flame

Where she holds an L over thine heart


A man is poor and must leave. Food! He doth plead

I must depart to free myself- I race!

I give him coin, I heartily agreed

What a concept. We all need change of pace


The years do not slow, as much as we dream

Handed to the law, I quickly run

Play by the rules isn’t fun it seem

Doth head gains smarts, but doth soul loseth fun


Players, if music be the food of love, play bold

All that glitters and shimmers surely must be gold



All Star, By Smash Mouth