I have no need to prove you wrong To show the triteness of your point No need to give the facts I’d rather find a joke you’ll like A memory pleasant on your mind I’d rather feel you grin Your breath falls warm upon my neck Your legs behind my chair feel strong Your lungs refresh the air I have the wind as if I’m running My wheels turn faster with each pun And slow with every pause How about a trade, my dear I’ll give you brains; you give me legs The hill is long and steep