Dude. I can't.

Dude, I can't, I thought to myself,
Pulling my history textbook from a shelf.
Dude, I can't,
Take how everyone here is obsessed with being a prefect,
The ties they wear around their neck and sins they collect,
In their small books and in their dusty cranny and nooks,
DUDE, I just CAN'T,
Take how every book I read is scrutinised and picked apart,
Pushed and pulled in directions, I'm called an upstart
For being 'outspoken' in the words of a Fish,
Who was half-Scandy and half Miss.

Dude, I can't, I screamed at my table,
Help but wonder why everyone is able
To do things I can't really think of doing,
Multitude of ideas in my head brewing,
Dude, I can't,
I whisper to my enemy,
Did you hear, Elisa built anemone!
Dude, I can't,
It's a reef, she whispers,
Quieting my minor-mass hysteria...
Dude, I can't,
Really stand how everyone would kill to go to LSE,
When they insult Warwick, and praise to no end, Berkeley.

Dude, I can't,
Stand anyone...
Dude, I can't,
I'm just fun.




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