Insanesbury

 The saintsbury the tallest lad
These kids come with hormones they should have five years later
With a military tone and an adam's apple digging out of the throat
These Kids run and smack like a full grown man on the grass

we just look on feeling like crib babies
The Saintsbury was born marching out of the womb
Skin hair just enough to warm him in winter
While the rest of us bare ones just freeze

Behind his spectacles he observes the class
Then bellows something indistinct
it used to be the old cornerstone
Of sleepy yellow eye mullet