08-03-2014, 07:00 PM
Mr Blackburn bellowed
and stabbed the sharp keys
of the schools grand piano.
No, no, no, no; NO!
He wanted back a public school past,
where the boys could sing in perfect pitch,
and he would get goosebumps telling tales
of how the audience held their breath.
His compromise was comprehensive,
and he hated everything it stood for,
he twisted with bitterness in plain view
and couldn't accept their version of; to.
Four hours he made them stand,
repeating the same song
over and over,
again ! and you are not leaving until we get it right.
“Oh Jesus I have promised tew serve thee tew the end”
Stop, STOP ! Head-boy, where are you, get out here boy,
now !
Let us ask for some divine inspiration, repeat after me,
Our dear lord,
help us sing the word toooo,
for we shall not go home
until we doooo.
The headmaster spat the last words through gritted teeth,
teachers were watching closely from the wings,
his meltdown close to the liquid phase.
He had the Head-boy by his collar,
presenting him to the rest of the assembly,
a dangling ventriloquist’s dummy.
The boy spoke clearly.
Our dear lord,
help us sing the word tew,
else baldy Blackburn will pop a screw,
and I really just don't give a shit,
so fuck him,
and fuck yooo tooo.
The teaching staff moved as one
like warders in a mental asylum,
they wrestled the headmaster
off the stage,
the audience held their breath.
and stabbed the sharp keys
of the schools grand piano.
No, no, no, no; NO!
He wanted back a public school past,
where the boys could sing in perfect pitch,
and he would get goosebumps telling tales
of how the audience held their breath.
His compromise was comprehensive,
and he hated everything it stood for,
he twisted with bitterness in plain view
and couldn't accept their version of; to.
Four hours he made them stand,
repeating the same song
over and over,
again ! and you are not leaving until we get it right.
“Oh Jesus I have promised tew serve thee tew the end”
Stop, STOP ! Head-boy, where are you, get out here boy,
now !
Let us ask for some divine inspiration, repeat after me,
Our dear lord,
help us sing the word toooo,
for we shall not go home
until we doooo.
The headmaster spat the last words through gritted teeth,
teachers were watching closely from the wings,
his meltdown close to the liquid phase.
He had the Head-boy by his collar,
presenting him to the rest of the assembly,
a dangling ventriloquist’s dummy.
The boy spoke clearly.
Our dear lord,
help us sing the word tew,
else baldy Blackburn will pop a screw,
and I really just don't give a shit,
so fuck him,
and fuck yooo tooo.
The teaching staff moved as one
like warders in a mental asylum,
they wrestled the headmaster
off the stage,
the audience held their breath.
If your undies fer you've been smoking through em, don't peg em out
wae aye man ye radgie
