We shot the skull - for luck, for lack of reasons,
I was the luckiest of our small group.
I split it into three unequal pieces,
The bigger one, of course, was mine to scoop.

My childhood friend had an impressive ear,
He heard all whispers, undertones and such.
But he was not exempt from harm and fear:
He went to jail because he knew too much.

For happiness doesn’t lie in perfect hearing,
But in forgetting everything you’ve heard.
Don’t talk, keep to yourself from the beginning,
It’s better not to know a single word.