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