Schoolhaus Rock

Kids, no matter how much you ply them with drugs, don’t always listen to what their teachers have to say. They stare at things other than what’s on the blackboard. Their eyes wander, their minds wonder. And they don’t raise their hands. Music has a way of cutting away the chaff, letting it fall to the floor for janitors to clean up after school. If you want to teach people, there’s no better tool than a screen. Would Alex in Clockwork have learned anything without a little extra time in front of the tube? I don’t think so. He needed it. We needed it. And they need it now. Here is my favorite melodious update for the twenty-first century classroom, I'm Just a Book...

Why are you trying to make us read? 

When bad ideas spread like a weed.

 

I’m just a book

Yes, I’m only a book

And I’m waitin’ here for some line cook.

‘Cause when you toss me onto that great big pile,

You won’t have to interpret my special bile.

For things to heat up, it can sure take a while. 

People say all sorts of things about who I am,

That I’m worse than what’s in your folder for spam,

So gather your matches, find some cover and scram.  

 

Gee, you have lots of courage to walk up to that fire.

Though it sounds quite beautiful, like a funeral pyre. 

 

Then that makes me a latter day Joan of Arc,

Would you do me a favor and make a spark? 

I’d like to get started and leave my mark.

Since I began the day as a forbidden page turner,

Students flocked to me, their syllabus spurner,

Nourishment for the knowledge yearner. 

I didn’t mean to give them such a scare,

Though it’s probably too late to clear the air.

There’s lots of smoke, so please say a prayer. 

 

What are they afraid of? That’s what I don’t get.

Let me know if you want the pile relit. 

 

Not every idea goes down easy and tastes oh so sweet.

Some tastes must be acquired, like genuine street meat.

Not from a food truck, but roadkill, what a treat.

I make people uncomfortable, I’m such a pain.

I disrupt the masses, I can ruin a brain.

So fry me up with a chef like Bourdain.

I’m not here to make trouble or to cause a stir,

Better to pretend I’m a horrible slur.

Wow, with all that smoke, today’s been a blur. 

 

You sound interesting, I’d like to see what’s inside.

Flip through you now that I’m clear-eyed.

 

I don’t think that’s wise,

I’m honestly full of lies.  

 

I’d like to see for myself,

If you belong on my bookshelf. 

 

I’m warning you’ll feel some regret,

And ignorance is no sweat. 

 

You’re just a book.

Why can’t I take a look? 

 

The worst thing that can happen is for you to learn,

It’s better to be safe and finish the burn.

Judge a book by its cover or rather, its urn?