When I was young and they packed me off to school
and the taught me how not to play the game.
I didn't mind if they groomed me for success
or if they said that I was just a fool.
So I left there in the morning with their God tucked underneath my arm -
their half - assed smiles and the book of rules.
And I asked this God a question and by way of firm reply
He said - I'm not the kind you have to wind up on Sundays.
So to my old headmaster (and to anyone who cares):
young
wrong
whole
underneath
tucked
through
thing
their
taught
sunday
success
smiles
reply
poorer
these
packed
around
birth
rules
accident
question
groomed
better
death
asked
before
prayers
bishops
assed
measure
headmaster
anyone
believe
compose
morning
worth
boots
rather
cares
there
excommunicate
sundays
glory
honest
school
lines
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