Sir Adonis wears a ten-pound helm and he does not know who rules the realm. He thinks the tides are pulled by luck and he thinks the sun is a roasted duck. He stands in the square with a giant sword and lectures the weavers on harvest hoard. He mispronounces the village name yet everyone claps for a lord of his fame! Oh, the less he knows, the louder he speaks! He’s mapped out the world in a couple of weeks! With a booming chest and a shiny shield, he’s the loudest man on the village field! Confidence high and a brain quite light; give three loud cheers for the cocksure knight! He doesn't know copper from tin or brass and he thinks that mountains are piles of grass. He’s never read parchment nor held a pen, yet he teaches logic to learned men! The baker is nodding, the blacksmith cheers—Each golden word Adonis says, revered! They gulp down his nonsense like vintage wine hust because he says it with a holy shine! Oh, the less he knows, the louder he speaks! He’s mapped out the world in a couple of weeks! With a booming chest and a shiny shield, he’s the loudest man on the village field! Confidence high and a brain quite light; give three loud cheers for the cocksure knight! He’s never crossed past the yonder hill but knows how the whole wide world should till. He says the map’s just a matter of size and every kingdom ought to heed his advice. He'll argue with scholars, then puff out his chest, convinced that his guesses are always the best. For doubt is a weakness, as far as he’s read— Which isn’t far... for he’s nothing read. Oh, the less he knows, the louder he speaks! He’s mapped out the world in a couple of weeks! With a booming chest and a shiny shield, he’s the loudest man on the village field! Confidence high and a brain quite light; give three loud cheers for the cocksure knight! The jester sighs behind his sleeve at all the fools who choose to believe That certainty shouted, polished and loud is wiser than doubt from the learned crowd. For wisdom says, “There’s more to know.” Sir Adonis says, “I told you so!” So hand him the reins! Stand clear! Take flight! He knows not the road—but he knows he is right! Oh, the less he knows, the louder he screams! We’ll nod our heads and abandon our dreams! With a booming chest and a vacant stare he’ll poison the village with ignorant air! Our spirits are broken, our voices are gone! We cheer for the darkness that’s coming with dawn! So bow to the helmet and applaud the knight who knows not a thing, but knows he is right! A scholar says, “Well, I'm not so sure—” The cocksure laughs, his self assured! He knows nothing at all... Yet he conquers us all!
