(lyrics by Mark Zucker, to the old traditional tune “11 Cents Butter”)

Call me a commie, a zealot, or fool

I got me a job in a public school

I heard about the pay and I heard about the stress

But I was on a mission, man, I gotta confess

See, I was raised by peculiar folk

That taught me that work is not just a joke

We all change the world in ways large and small

You’re gonna be counted, better stand up tall

 

Man, oh man, I don’t mean to preach

But Lord a–mighty, I mean to teach

 

Got me a carrot, got me some sticks

Learned me the content, learned me some tricks

Rolled up my sleeves and rubbed my hands

Opened the door and then it hit the fan

They tumbled in with a howling roar

Bounced off the ceiling and walls and floor

I lifted my hands as if to pray

They ran out the door and left for the day

 

Man, oh man, I don’t mean to preach

But Lord a–mighty, I mean to teach

 

It took me a month till I found a way

To get ’em to sit and sometimes even stay

I was pouring out knowledge with all my heart

But its hard to compete with the common fart

I found out their skills were … a little.. behind

So I drilled and I probed, tried to tickle their mind

I worked and I learned and I started to care

Too bad there was only one of me there

 

Man, oh man, I don’t mean to preach

But Lord a–mighty, I mean to teach

 

Now I’m a veteran so I‘m the one

Who’s supposed to know how this job is done

After all these years all I’ve got to say

I love my job every single day

Takes a little blood and a lot of sweat

To swim the flood while you float your debt

I build a world of love as I teach my class

And the haters outside can take it up…. with the authorities

 

Man, oh man, I don’t mean to preach

But Lord a–mighty, I mean to teach