Wooden School, wooden class,
fill me with wisdom, help me to grasp,
the airy mist beneath my feet,
that brings me to salvation deep.
Keep my endorphins running thick,
like sap in your tree of knowledge.
You fell, just as I did when I sat in a stool.
You took a great fall, oh great Wooden School.
Due to a foolish and silly rule,
they took me away to a 'fancier' wooden school, and so I sit upon a meloncholy stool.
My life was over before it began,
So too was yours, that's when I ran.
Wooden School, now I realize I'm blue.
For my home is not within the cold confines of your dead ebony embrace,
that is unforgiving like frostbite from a dark past, abandoned.
Thank God for his angels who sew new creations, and teach others to do so after turmoil and isolation.
I place a book upon your shelf,
A shadow of your former self,
Mine home is not with thee.
I step outside your prison wall, by losing myself within myself, and taking a plunge if you will-a fall.
The fall I do declare I took,
Everything within that book,
was already burning inside my blood,
like sap in a tree-you understood.
I come back after visiting the world below,
into your wooden school so mellow,
and now I have everything I need,
to gather the lumber of your crude creed,
But be I ever so humble, listen ya'll I did learn a bit,
from my first wooden school,
the Red Oak-it was there and only there that my soul and thirst for knowledge did indeed fit.