(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