"I'm told I'm free to try, so try I did,
but then the shrewd wins with the highest bid;
I'm tired of being told that I am free,
living free is the worst jail term for me."
These were what our friend, Honesto had said
to drunken ears of addled, groggy heads;
teasing him, we laughed and shouted, "Come here,
Philosopher, beat it, knock down your beer!"
We knew the guy was simply down and out,
his eyes betrayed his raging silent shout;
the gang screamed, "Why don't you give life a taste?
Philosophizing's such a wasteful waste."
"It's best for you and us to laugh and drink,
kick out them blues and woes, don't brood, don't think;
cursing your fate and the world's but a trash,
we've got our beer, brother, and lots of cash!"
"Tonight let's smash some doors and hit the road,
rev up them hot engines, burn down the load;
let's break some wise guys' ribs and crack a nose,
a boring thrill, but man, that's how life goes!"
Honesto swayed, stood up, drew out a knife,
and from his bleeding wrists oozed out his life;
we thought it was just a quick tipsy trick,
but he died, leaving us guiltily sick.