The Arrows Ate My Homework
Take that old test down to the basement
Time to prove it doesn't mean sh*t
Take a big red marker; paint a target on it
Stick it to the cardboard, the way I wish
I could stick it to the teacher and have done with it
Nock my arrow, pull back until the feathers brush my face
I'm safe now, secure now, I have my tranquil place
See how I release the string, and now the projectile flies
It hits its mark and lights a spark
And so that paper dies.
Oh, look, another one, and this one has a comment:
"You didn't say exactly what I wanted, so this English test? You bombed it."
Well, that's a darn shame.
It's a bigger shame my arrows can't carry flames,
Nock another (flameless) arrow, and let's do it all again
Feel the tension in my bow? I once held that within.
Let the arrow go once more and now it hits the red
Of the "F" my teacher gave me, well,
That test is "effing" dead.