Carrying a lunch pail to a building
Where you put widgits in gidgits
Then going home
To meat-loaf and T.V.
Is not living.
To live is to risk.
There is no other way.
For to know the thrill of fresh powder
One risks a broken leg.
In giving love
One risks a broken heart.
If there is something you wish to do
But first must prepare
For every eventuality
By the time you are finished
With the preparations
The time for doing may be past.
But don't misunderstand;
I have no quarrel with those
Satisfied with widgitry
And really care if the
Vikings are better
Than the Raiders
For, after all, society does need
It's gidgits.
... ... doesn't it? ... ...

So if I opt for trying for "the thrill of victory"
Even if I should taste instead "the agony of defeat"
Why should they quarrel with me?
What would their football be like if it wasn't for a Joe Namath
Going for it on fourth and long?