Venetian Blinds
When I was just a very young boy
About six or maybe seven years old
I tortured my teacher in the classroom
By never doing what I was told.
They didn’t have any classification
At the time to put me in a box
It’s not so much that I hated to be there
I’m sure I was viewed as a young paradox
One day I remember oh so well
I probably drove her to an early drink
I got up from my desk and ran down the aisles
What was she to do? What was she to think?
She ordered me back to my seat right away
I’d already started. There was no way to stop
I ran up one aisle and back down another
My energy level just wouldn’t drop
And then I saw them, the fait accompli
The strings hanging down from the top of the blinds
They had to be pulled. I couldn’t resist.
My mother was called for a meeting of minds
Please come to school as soon as you can
Robby- yes that was my name when I was a boy
Is running up and down the aisles
Pulling Up the Venetian blinds as if his own toy
I don’t remember what happened next
My mother had her favorite wooden spoon
I doubt that she waited for Dad to get home
I was probably spanked that afternoon.
Even to this day I find it hard to sit still
My best thinking happens when I pace back and forth
If you ever find yourself on the phone talking to me
I’ll first pace to the south and then to the north.
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