Twas the last day of classes and all through the school,
Not a teacher was teaching - we're not fucking fools.
The TVs were glowing, the kids in a trance,
I sat at my desk with my hands down my pants.
The children were dying to get to start their vacation,
But their joy could not rival their teachers' elation.
We care about kids, of that there's no doubt.
But trust me-we just want to get the fuck out.
The job ain't so bad, though the pay is a bummer,
But goddamn, you don't hear us griping come summer.
When June rolls around, you know what we're thinking:
Bring on ten solid weeks of sleeping and drinking.
When out in the hall there arose such a clatter.
I hid in my room to avoid the whole matter.
It's probably two or three asshole kids fighting,
To my pussy ass, that don't sound too inviting.
For while breaking up fights, one can catch a stray fist,
And getting a shiner would make me real pissed.
So I cranked the TV and locked up my class door
And in no time at all, kids were hearing me snore.
I awoke to the sound of the 10 o'clock bell.
I still had two more stinking hours of hell.
A cold one awaits at the bar by the school.
After eight or nine bottles it's off to the pool
But first I must get through this hellish last day,
Before I start frittering summer away.
My grades are turned in, my duties are done.
I planned to be drunk by a half past one.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard at my side,
This girl that I loathe, and she broke down and cried,
"How could you give me a B in your class?
I mean, you don't teach, you just sit on your ass?"
Not replying at first, for she gave me a fright,
In not time at all, I knew she was right.
Instead of a long drawn-out fight on this day,
I instantly changed her damn B to an A.
For school would be out in just one fucking hour
And to fight with this skank would just make the day sour.
This chick was so haughty and cocky and rich,
I just wanted free of this grade-grubbing bitch.
At lunchtime I walked to my car with no fear
To guzzle my annual last day lunch beer.
For the last day of school really carries no point,
So I fired up a big fucking Bob Marley joint.
I returned to my room for my last stupid class
My breath like a brewery, my red eyes like glass.
I stared at the wall while the kids watched a movie
I was so goddamn stoned that I used the word groovy.
It was thankfully noon and the final bell sounded.
To the buses and cars the hyper kids bounded.
On this final day, not one kid did linger,
We just smiled as they left ... and gave them the finger.
And now starts my long, languid summer hiatus.
With all of this bragging, no wonder you hate us.
While all summer long, as you're working and weeping,
We lucky-assed teachers are drinking and sleeping.
Think of the hatred you have for this slob
As you wake up real early and head to your job.
Does rubbing it in make me some world-class jerk?
You consider that fact ... tomorrow at work.
Ned Bitters teaches high school and dreams of one day seeing one of his former students on stage at a strip club. You can contact him at teacherslounge@hobotrashcan.com.
