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Manning
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Old School
Down the corridors with rooms that look the same.
Numbers on the borders, pictures on the window frames
Chalk dust still hangs in the air...
The desks are lined up still so fixed & square
Hands clean, neatly folded
History, writing, reading stories of old
Sound the bell & make a line outside the hall
Walking with no talking or feel the slipper fall
Children's echoes in the yard
Time is a wasting; lessons hard
Hair combed, shoes tied in a bow
Books, pens, satchels hanging all in a row
So you must put your play things down
Sit & pay attention, don't fool around
No room for dreamers in this place...
We train the future master race
Eyes front, ears back, hands down
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Turning countless pages, recite the laws
We got to get away
We need to break the silence
& make a stand today against draconian violence
Rules were meant to stick, but sticks were not meant to rule
You can teach this dog new tricks
We're nobody's fool
We got to get away
When the smoke had all blown clear
The teachers looked on chaos with some fear
No longer could they put us down...
Redress the balance, define the noun
One small Victory, not the War
Made to stand & face the door for my crimes
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