DAMN SCHOOL, APPROXIMATELY
©1979 David Lefkowitz
(Sung to the melody of Bob Dylan’s “Maggie’s Farm”)
I ain’t gonna go to this damn school, no more.
No, I ain’t gonna go to this damn school, no more.
Well, you wear your school jacket like a mourner wears a shroud
And they give you detention for breathing too loud
You’re never sure just what’s in store.
I ain’t gonna go to this damn school, no more.
I ain’t gonna deal with these damn students no more.
No, I ain’t gonna deal with these damn students no more.
Well, the JAPs, they all snub you, and the greasers beat you blind
While the Board of Education kneels and kisses their behinds
And every single class is just a bore.
I ain’t gonna deal with these damn students no more.
I ain’t gonna deal with these damn teachers, no more.
No, I ain’t gonna deal with these damn teachers, no more.
Well, they give you a “D” and they give you “F”s
But when you ask for guidance, they say, “Get it for yourself.”
And they’re always listening in by the door.
I ain’t gonna deal with these damn teachers, no more.
I ain’t gonna take these exams no more.
No, I ain’t gonna take these damn exams, no more.
Well, the Regents and the Finals and all the tests in between
Written up by teachers who get paid for being mean.
They more you cheat, the higher you can score
I ain’t gonna take these exams no more.
I ain’t gonna go to this damn place, no more.
No, I ain’t gonna go to this damn place, no more.
Well, the building it is crumbling
And the teachers there are, too
Through the littered halls we’re stumbling
To classes we’ll sleep through
The dean’s a lush, and the principal’s a whore
I ain’t gonna go to this damn school, no more.
I ain’t gonna go to this damn school, no more.
No, I ain’t gonna go to this damn school, no more.
Well, I’m going to the high school
Where I’ll work until I drop
Where the seniors just ignore you
And the juniors bust your chops
I should’ve dropped out long, long before.
I ain’t gonna go to this damn school, no more.
***********
NOTES & BACKSTORY:
A parody song I’d completely forgotten about until visiting my parents’ house and poking through a small stack of envelopes on the top shelf of my old bureau drawer. Back in 1979, I mailed myself original lyrics for the first batch of songs I’d written in that first flush of creativity that happened when my friends and I created a comedy-rock band, Steven Fisch and his Fabulous Fisch-Heads.
So back then, I was a Dylan freak and two years away from graduating high school. The song, itself, was aimed at my junior high school, which I rather liked but my younger bandmates delighted in mocking. I guess you could say this song was a thematic predecessor to my later “Here’s to the High School.”
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