dry

She sat there looking at us;
hoping that the good student in us
would somehow wake up.
From the sleepy eyes she put to sleep,
with her slang-ed accent, mouth that stretched too wide.
Eager to impart her knowledge which our hands scribble down.
page after page, filled with useless diagrams and techniques,
about the competition of molecular weights, polarity and non.

Stuffed in our bleached coats,
roasting for her final test
but cher' we're not touching no acid
no burner's gonna burn our hair
and i'm only wearing my specs
cos well i'm scared your spit might just reach me,
and maybe well, it masks the only window.

But I'm looking at you, miss
and i can see right through you.
and all you really want
is for us to do our best.
Tempers may flare and that pressure is cooking
but we're trying, cher', really really.
its just the table top looks a lot more comfortable right now.