Here at Horace Green, our purpose is to gleam good test results,
From Pre-Adults.
Making sure each child is,
Drilled, ringed and filed by score.
(Spoken) Oh Good Morning All.
Hence, one would expect our garishly bedect, new substitute.
To Fall Asuit.
Schneebly, though, comes in and discipline goes out the door.
(Spoken) Brownie?
Here at Horace Green, there's stolen glances,
Playful Whispers,
Giggling in the gym.
What it all can mean is quite confounding,
Still one thing's clear!
It comes from him.
Have you seen that psychadelic van that he's got?
Locked in the lot
Parked in my spot.
And that naked lady painted right on the rear.
What about those sloppy looking outfits he's had?
Stripes mixed with plaid,
All smelling bad.
Rather like petulie,
Dirty sweat socks, and beer.
Don't forget his cocky, over-confident air,
Grease in his hair,
Stains everywhere!
And that awful lingo far to crude to discuss,
Plus the endless music coming right through his door,
Hard to ignore!
And Furthermore,
Worst of all, the children all like him more than us,
Here at Horace Green,
We groom achievers,
Keep them focused.
Mininimize their quirks
Schneebly hits the scene: they smile, laugh, beam,
Who knows what he does but God it works!
Here at Horace Green (Here at Horace Green)
Here at Horace Green, we have a system
Which we keep to,
As we're told we should.
Think what it would mean to do things his way!
Maybe we too, could do some good.
Maybe we too could do some good.