bored in an ethics class


What the actual f--- is ethics?
Ethical, morality, dumb-f---ing ethics.
Ethics are odd-
So confusing-
So wrong?
But what are these ethics,
I so hope to long.

Am I a good person, won’t anyone know?
I’ll jump to my feet when you tell me
“Hell NO!”
But what are these ethics,
Do I reap what I sow?
Is that the right sentence?
oh well
This class blows.

hello my pal!
my friend!
my guy!

lets gather round’ the camp for tea
i’ll sing to you my dearest song
if you’ll sit with me for the long

i often don’t see much of you or any
now since i’ve been blue.
the days are running rather thin
i wonder how this could have been.

before i start my silly tune
i must profess a word to you
or several words, i realize now
i hate my job
i often frown.

but do not fret
for its a job
where money is made
yet not for long

i’ll quit this job
i’ll quit it now
i’ll quit tomorrow
how does that sound?

or might i live in misery
with i, with you, this cup of tea!
if this is misery, then please
forgive me but i don’t see
this all seems fairly nice to me,
this all seems fairly nice to me.

i’m sitting in my empty room
where dreams run dry

i’m tossing in my empty room
so desperate for shuteye

i sit here in my room so cold
with heat turned on
by the glowing moon

i’ve seen this moon too many now
i often think we’re friends, oh wow!
but musn’t i be dumb to think
or ponder what my new friend speaks

or does he speak
for he’s the moon
he speaks to me
a silent tune.

teaching is tough
and rough
and cruel

where even some
feel like a fool.

ironic yes, and surely so!
but might i ask
and wont you know?

perhaps you won’t
thats fine with i!

but how come -
teachers want to
cry?

i often wonder where i’ll go
or be, or stand, or bike, or row
the only thing i need to know
is where i’ll be
when the flowers grow.