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Teacher and The Test

(sexy female voice) Hey, Teacher, you got any extra credit for me? I

really wanna pass this test, really wanna pass this test !

On guard, I’m hard, take this shit far more than seriously.  At night I

dream up questions deliriously, want to change things materially,

spread a little love and hate and act mysteriously, rile you like Busta

till hearts pound in chests, then sit everybody down and start the

test.  You were looking for more, came to expect less, like a mobster

nabbed by Eliot Ness, like the gap exposed by Kanye West, like a rich

man took cash for Enron to invest, like a comedian shackled for making

a jest, like a line that moved forward then was forced to regress, like

la di da become um, I guess. Sit down! Yo, I’m just getting started,

get out your pencils!

Wow, teacher, you sure aren’t messin’ around! I really wanna pass this

test, really wanna pass this test!

Some people represent evil truth, want to defile you, fake smile at you, rip out someone’s liver and squeeze bile on you.  Torturers and sorcerers, miserable humans with hurtful visions, tracing old incisions, and demons and prisons and missions and misdeeds toward children and women, sulfur and screaming, a city block is burning, lost souls and loved ones yearning, and woop de da, ahem, chomp a cliché: the world keeps turning.  How can this be best? My brain’s distressed! Is that Archie Bunker, on the cover of your Reader’s Digest? Are you writing this down? It’s all part of the test!

Wooooo! Thing’s are getting hot! I really wanna pass this test, really

wanna pass this test!

War, earthquakes, disease, people, yeah I said it simple: people,

salmonella vegetables and rotten pastrami, what the heck else can ya

scheme up to harm me?  Sometimes every little thing about every little

thing alarms me.  Lobotomize, conform me, maybe I’ll be free?, but see,

that isn’t very courageous, so I take strength, like rock of ages,

like a survivor of two plagues, and this is just the gist, anti-anti-anti-anarchist, bruised soul seeking bliss, misdeeds to redress, ok, I raise my fist, and la la la, the song goes like this.  Hell of mess, everyone know best, mother and daughter, father and son, each got opinion more important than the other one. Every day’s a trial, take notes, this’ll be on the test!

Uh, uh, uh!  Ooooh yeahhh! I really wanna pass this test, really wanna

pass this test!

Proactive, reactive, deductive, who don’t know jack shit?  People

saying one thing then doing the opposite, lying in your face while

reaching in your pockets to cop shit.  Who do you trust?  Who don’t get

broken down by greed and lust? Abused virtue rusts!  Do you have a partner to return your touch? The sky is grey and foggy, you feel very groggy, the guy on the corner looking at you mean and dodgy, and you are thinking to a brutal beat that you don’t who you are supposed to be. Aaaahhhhwwwuuhh! Kid, you know the truth, that youth in you is you, still unbroken, it’s yours, you can use you well or so easy, you can misuse you, in every dark place there’s proof, hungry bastards could consume you.  Don’t let ‘em.  Keep the flow tight and mighty. Light your own light like Volataire. Fuck despair. That’s it. That’s the test.  If you can’t pass this wish to God, right?, maybe he’ll save your asses.

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