(About a 1 minute read)
Sitting at the bar last night,
I said the poets had created the gods.
But Nevin, who quite obviously
Knew nothing about such matters,
Said the philosophers had created them
Hence bringing mankind the blessings
Of meaning in life.
Thus, we reached an impasse
That reduced us to an estranged silence
Of a quarter hour while we sat
Like twin sphinxes staring ahead
And all too aware of each other.
Presently one of us quietly sighed
Which was like a bomb going off.
So we began talking at once,
Our estrangement forgotten, buried
When we spoke over each other to resolve:
‘Twas the Scots who had blessed
Mankind with its meaning
By being first to create
The best single malts!