Professor

Hanging around his life's only chapter

Delighted by the idea to chase after

Your mistake, your disgrace.

Smelling the naïve sheets of your notebook

Checking out your comb, your breath and

Your looks

Makes you crawl, in the hall

He ain't a teacher, he ain't a master

Powdering your words he plays the expert

One way lens, sour pen.

Staring at every stroke of your shy brush

Grinning he drives our notes in a small husk

Screams and shouts, sets your trial

Dear Professor what's the use in markin'

If what we do wrong is not important?

Blue and red lashings can't hurt our bodies

We're still on the run we're still on the run

We all make mistakes trying to do things

But what we do rights is more important

Dear Professor this is worth the effort

What's wrong with your mind what's wrong with your mind

Ain't no teacher, he'll never master

Scratches his know-all-nose, fake expert

Tiresome eye, black bow tie,

He thinks he has a desk full of credits

In every art display hangs his habit

Talkin' bad, about what you lack

Good morning Sir..,

Here's most important test for you to check

It was your own life that you've misgraded

Judging your own test the way you judged ours

Missin' now each point that you could count on

Zero's what you've got it was your last shot

You will fade away you will fade away.