about
Creative writing up in da house.
lyrics
V: It’s 45 degrees outside,
And my brain is fried.
How many days until summer?
Bitch I’m boutta drop out and be a plumber.
T: But really,
I wanna be free like Willy.
V: And I’m not about to be Billy,
Stynes, that’s just silly.
B: School’s a bummer,
So why can’t it be summer?
T: Every morning, 7:29,
Running every single stop sign,
Trying to get to class,
Constantly pushing the gas.
V: Until we get to the parking lot,
Pull into the front row spot,
Narrowly dodging Officer Walker,
Running to our locker.
T: Whoops, we’re late.
It just wasn’t fate,
Guess we’ll see you later,
Don’t call me a hater.
B: School’s a bummer,
So why can’t it be summer?
V: Barely making it to second block,
And this girl is wearing crocs…
T: Falling asleep before the bell rings,
It seems I forgot all of my things.
V: No pencils, no paper,
All I got in my bottle is water vapor.
Plug my headphones in,
Sip on my bottle of…..
B: School’s a bummer,
So why can’t it be summer?
T: Teacher calls our names,
And our faces go up in flames.
What’s 2+2, do you even know?
Honestly, I don’t, yo.
V: Got sent to the hallway,
Getting out of class is child’s play.
Gonna go get ourselves a burrito bowl,
Fourth period’s about to start, we better rock & roll.
T: Hop in the car, drive fast,
Taylor Swift on blast.
B: School’s a bummer,
So why can’t it be summer?
V: Try and get back in the door,
It’s unlocked, score.
The chances that we’ll be on time are slim,
Running through the halls is better than going to the gym.
T: Finally get there, oh look a sub,
And he’s not some scrub,
Pull out my mirror, fix my hair,
Maybe if I’m lucky he’ll stop & stare.
V: Nah, he’s got a ring,
Looks like I’m on to the next thing.
B: School’s a bummer,
So why can’t it be summer?
T: It’s lunch time,
Where people cut lines like organized crime.
Good thing we don’t eat school food,
That stuff’s just crude.
V: Back to class,
Learning something about air mass.
Doesn’t even make sense,
I’m just waiting for summer to commence.
T: There goes the bell,
Getting out of this hell.
B: School’s a bummer,
So why can’t it be summer?
V: Finally the last class of the day,
I promise to forget everything they say.
Sitting through my teacher drone about history,
How they’re still here is a mystery.
T: Counting down the seconds,
As freedom beckons.
Staring down the door,
How many more minutes? Just four.
V: The instant the bell rings,
We feel like kings.
T: Finally we’re out,
Time to scream & shout!
V: Dreading the next morning,
We might not even show up, just a warning.
B: School’s a bummer,
So why can’t it be summer? (repeat)
credits
released November 2, 2012
license
all rights reserved