There once was a man wearing glenplaid and tie,

He thought he'd have lunch

Say, pastrami on rye

His friend said

"Egads, are you at it again?

Your sandwich has ketchup.

You know that's a sin"

The sinner felt lower

Than lower can be

His friend was so caustic

His accents so free

When he spoke in French

There were people in awe

But his own slight tongue

Only drew him guffaws

"I'll best him at something

I'll not let him go

I'll bleach my hair blond

And wax long on Thoreau"

If only the others

Could see through this veil

My many admirers

They would not fail

To love me

To love me

In that I prevail