There was a bright young fellow, his name it was Theroux,
Who took himself to Walden pond to have a fine to-do,
He talked to all the fishes and he talked to all the birds,
And then sat down and wrote a book of many thousand words.
I am a man of silence, he cried to all the wood,
I’d ban the planes and motor cars, and if I could, I would.
Oh let me write a eulogy on the babble of the brook,
The roe deer’s footprints in the park, you really have to look.
But now I’ve told my story, my stillness I must scupper,
And take myself to Tony’s place to order up my supper,
For woodsmen are the greatest in their Lincoln-green and livery,
But give me city places, with fast pizza delivery.