Disclaimer: This is NOT a dig at any person known on this planet, living or late, so please spare the rod from me. Any resemblance to anyone is a purely paranormal coincidence.

I had this damn old teacher, who wasn't a sight to see,

His name was Bunsen Burner and he taught us Chemistry

And if you didn't know an equation he'd get you by the ear

And pull and pull till it grew up to goodness-knows-where

Our class was full of long-haired boys

Who looked like ancient cavemen

This didn't please our Vice-principal

Who thinks it's a bad omen

She'd come at the end of the morning assembly

And say, 'Stand up straight!'

And all those boys who sport long hair

Can risk their own fate!'

Oh, we are, we ARE risking our fate,

Whose consequences to bear, we ourselves can't debate

Slowly as tolerance dissolves

We'll see ourselves as 'late'!

He became so wildly monstrous

If 'sulphuric' became 'sulphurous'

And he'd beat us cobalt blue

If 'ferric' changed to 'ferrous'

So if your teacher makes you stand

For going 'quack-quack-quack!'

Then please thank your lucky stars

'Cause she's got the divinity our Bunsen Burner lacked!

Aranya Paul Nandi