Saturday, 21 November 2009

HS

The school was grey
ice cream van was white
the pitch outside was red
we'd go there to fight
other than that there's not much more to say
six years at hampstead school was one long day
i stepped in english once to say- nothing.
no words came when asked to come in
tell the class some poems/lyrics you find interesting
i should have told all how foday was misunderstood
Think foday's no good
only gets by on dumb luck
i should have told them foday's smarter than all of us
because fodays the only one who learnt from the teachers
by learning how to not give a fuck
do the sheet, sit down, don't speak
get in, get out,  they don't expect much
so we accept we're not much, live to wait for lunch
I can never say i've met a teacher from that place
that perspires to aspire to inspire
and if they tell you different they're a liar
and if i tell you i cried there i'd be a liar
for i felt nothing, what heart could they break?
when there's no heart to take?
and she wonders why I'm numb
provoking an angry and ignorant reaction
"bitch you don't know where i've come from"
i sometimes forget the diference between guilt and regret
but i feel neither about pissing on that school the day i left
i only wish my cricklewood crew can spare two heartbeats
for the few dudes who tried to do good, but got beaten down
with old textbooks and suspicious looks.
that so solid crew album. asked for it for my birthday listened to it twice. knew all the lyrics. didn't even like it didn't even want it. i would have asked for something better if i knew what i wanted! (air force ones or jeans with holes)
so yeah give me spring i'd bloom like a flower
winter i'd be cool like the winter river
flowing under an icy exterior
summer i'd let the flames get me even hotter
but give me hampstead school
give me hampstead school
and the best i could give you
is a suicide bomber.
But it made it's mark, and at the very least
i went to hampstead
call me shit
i wont give a shit.