There´s too many people
Planning your downfall
When your spirit´s on trial
These nights can be frightening
Sleep transports sadness
To some other mid-brain
And somebody here
Will not be here next year
So you stand by the board
Full of fear and intention
And, if you think that they´re listening
Well, you´ve got to be joking
Oh, you understand change
And you think it´s essential
But when your profession
Is humiliation
Say the wrong word to our children...
We´ll have you, oh yes, we´ll have you
Lay a hand on our children
And it´s never too late to have you
Mucus on your collar
A nail up through the staff chair
A blade in your soap
And you cry into your pillow
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief

Say the wrong word to our children...
We´ll have you, oh yes, we´ll have you
Lay a hand on our children
And it´s never too late to have you
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief

I´m very glad the spring has come
The sun shines outside bright
The little birds that are on the trees
Are singing for delight