They said it's 'The happiest time of your life'
But really, you were stabbed at 12
And now they're twisting the knife.
You know you need your times tables
And how to read and write.
But the rest of it alls just useless junk
And of your lifes path, you're losing sight.
Since when would an electrician need to know
when Krushchev took the reigns.
And trigonometry's the last on my mind
When I'm dodging through motorway lanes.
I have no plans to be a composer
So what use to me is a crotchet?
And I can't use a 'meander' as a come-back
When a thug screams at me 'oi, watch it'.
So pack up your Pis, your Shake and your Speares,
Your Bills, Abrahams and Ronalds.
And zip them all up in a neat little bag,
And drag it down to McDonalds.
My feelings about leaving high school.