Dear Mr. Good I'm writing to tell you about my child   He's in the fifth grade and very dangerous   He thinks he's smarter than you and I and everybody else      So play him like a Maestro would play a cheap violin   Let him think he's the ringleader   Then in mid-circus pull the rug out from under him      My fear is that he's nearing the third rail   He's kneeling to another angry idol   And I can see it as his face is getting pale   That he's on his way out of this world      This sudden spat of insanity needs a good fat dose of humility   Otherwise a dictator will arise in class and rule by fear   So, before he gets too old to know what we're doing right now   Before he gets too old to turn a deaf ear, turn it back my way      My fear is that he's nearing the third rail   He's kneeling to another angry idol   And I can see it as his face is getting pale   Getting nowhere on no one's referrals   Getting nowhere on no one's referrals      He's on his way out of this world   He's on his way out of this world   He's on his way