A small town that most don’t know
That most will never see
Where kids storm through WR halls
All chanting BBB!
There aren’t that many teachers
None of them are the same
I’ve gone here for years now
And some still don’t know my name
They’re like a pack of wolverines
Who dominate the school
Punishing you for your mistakes
Because it makes them feel cool
Most kids get along here
There’s no one I don’t know
We have the snobs and pretty boys
And children that are slow
We also have the brains
Who people call a geek
And you might not believe this
But we even have a Greek
Then there are them people
Who many think are whack
Who listen to rock and misfits
And where nothing but black
I can’t forget the potheads
Or the ones who drink the rum
There really isn’t any jocks
The rest are plain old dumb
We like to meet at Young’s
That place can be quite scary
If you visit and no ones here
Look for the house of Jerry
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem