At five and one as Bard the Greek,
I’ve lost my perfect winning streak.
The Jets were hammered on the coast,
And with their loss, my right to boast
About perfection in my picks,
Collapsed and crossed the river Styx.
The Detroit Lions will defeat
The Dallas Cowboys when they meet.
New England ought to do the same
At Oakland in the later game.
At night the Jets play Baltimore,
And I’m afraid to pick the score.
My heart says Jets come out ahead;
My brain believes the Jets are dead.
If I were wise, adept and smart
I’d pick my head and not my heart.
But since I plan to place no bets
I’ll choose my heart, and take the Jets.