There's too many people   Planning your downfall   When your spirit's on trial   These nights can be frightening      Sleep transports sadness   To some other mid-brain   And somebody here   Will not be here next year      So you stand by the board   Full of fear and intention   And if you think that they're listening   Well, you've got to be joking      Oh, you understand change   And you think it's essential   But when your profession   Is humiliation      Say the wrong word to our children   We'll have you, oh yes, we'll have you   Lay a hand on our children   And it's never too late to have you      Mucus on your collar   A nail up through the staff chair   A blade in your soap   And you cry into your pillow      To be finished would be a relief   To be finished would be a relief   To be finished would be a relief   To be finished would be a relief   To be finished would be a relief   To be finished would be a relief      Say the wrong word to our children   We'll have you, oh yes, we'll have you   Lay a hand on our children   And it's never too late to have you      To be finished would be a relief   To be finished would be a relief   To be finished would be a relief   To be finished would be a relief   To be finished would be a relief   To be finished would be a relief      I'm very glad the spring has come   The sun shines out so bright   Little birds upon the trees   Are singing for delight