some kind of school
They teach nasty things and they have nasty rules.
They only take nasties and rowdies and fools,
So come, let’s take a walk through nasty school.
You get to nasty school through a secret gate.
The first rule is you must be late.
Your hands and face must be all caked with dirt.
There must be lots of grease and gravy spots upon your shirt.
In class, instead of listening, you just talk,
And make those awful squeaks upon the blackboard with your chalk.
You must make sure your shoes are wet and muddy,
And as for homework, you must guarantee you haven’t studied.
You must put gum on everybody’s seat,
And when there is a test you have to promise that you’ll cheat.
Instead of teachers teaching you to make things,
The bad schoolteachers teach you how to break things:
They teach you how to smash a windowpane
And how to let a brand-new bike get rusty in the rain,
How to smash a vase to smithereens,
How to tear the pages out of someone’s magazine,
How to hold your breath and spit and scream,
How to put mustard into someone’s chocolate-chip ice cream,
How to bang a fender full of dents,
How to leave your footprint in a square of wet cement,
How to pinch and punch and slam a door,
How to splash water till you flood the bathroom floor,
How to do some muddy belly flops,
How to ruin your teeth with sugar pops,
How to turn a dress into a rag,
How to tear the bottom of a soggy garbage bag,
How to bend your father’s fishing hook,
How to drip hot meatloaf gravy on your science book,
How to fill a bathtub up with glue,
How to bounce upon a bed until the springs pop through,
How to fall out of an apple tree,
How to scratch your toe and miss the toilet when you pee,
How to spread a coat of honey on a volleyball,
How to write your name in toothpaste on the bathroom wall,
How to snap a shoelace when you tie it —
These are all the things you’ll learn
In nasty school — wanna try it?
You have to be the best.
Here you can’t be rotten —
You must be the rottenest.