Sitting in this corridor could go on forever

I know it’s not good and I know it’s not clever

It’s obvious I’m setting myself up for a fall

As I ignore the pull of my dull lesson’s call

Whilst right over my head the threat gathers and looms

I listen to the hum from a hundred haunting rooms

They’re all sitting identically ordered in their rows

There’s an empty chair and then everybody knows

It’s so much easier when you’re in my position

To hide from the teachers and blag inquisition

And when I am suppressed in this shell of a schools’ hall

Waiting for the bell to draw an end to it all

The dust never settles and this feeling never goes

Deep in my gut I feel it twisting as it grows

So I’ll pick peeling paint off this dirty dented door

And expose what the rest of the school seems to ignore

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