Fools rush in where angels fear to tread
Because only a fool is not afraid
Of being parted from his head.
Nevertheless, if he had stayed
And heeded every wise thing said,
There would be such a cost to be paid
That he would suffer more lying in bed.
Without sun, there’s no comfort in shade.
Without hunger, it’s no joy to be fed.
A fool myself, I know why he strayed
To find adventure, all dressed in red.
We risk it so our name may not fade,
Even if it means our own blood is shed.
Our pride drives us to make this trade,
We fools would rather be lost than led.
From our beliefs we cannot be swayed,
We will go down with the ship instead.
Facing death, fools would have stayed,
And with a long life ahead, we have fled.
By puppet-strings we hate to be played.
Proud of the orders we disobeyed
And the heavy books we left unread,
We savor life in every delicate shred.
Perhaps if we once knelt down and prayed,
We would have received our daily bread.
But if in God’s image fools are made
We can count ourselves among the dead,
And make our lives a funeral parade.