Chandler

It’s becoming obvious to me and my fellows

That you’ve chosen the wrong career

I was looking forward to this class—it’s hell, though

Cause I haven’t learned a thing all year

You sit at your podium and read your notes

Nearly blind and so close to the page

You don’t even know the stuff that you’re teaching

Which sends us all into rage

In fact, if I just read the text

If I had nothing else to do

I’m quite certain I could teach the class

And do a much better job than you

It’s all fine and dandy that you’ll improve next year

But what does that matter to us?

If you didn’t notice, we’ll all have moved on

So don’t sit at your desk and fuss

You live at home with mother and father

Don’t ask us why you’re single

I imagine when you’re such a pushover

That it becomes a challenge to mingle

But bottom line, I want to know

About Henry, John, and Liz

It’s quite unfortunate, we all agree,

That we’re you’re guinea pigs

You reject suggestions, but they’d help us out

Are you really cut out to teach?

I’m tired of dealing with you’re pitiful life

You sorry, droning leach