third strike

[INTRO] Four classes down the drain. Third school, same old game. Which is pretty good, actually, If you think about it. I mean, you'd think they'd get tired Of throwing a guy out. [VERSE 1] So I got the letter, or the news, or whatever, Four classes flunked, and they're cutting the tether. Third school down, and the weather's still weather, Everybody's acting like the world's coming unstitched. They got their little meetings, their important little faces, Their important little rules for the important little places. I guess I wasn't learning what they wanted me to know. I learned how to leave before they tell you where to go. Which is something, isn't it? You gotta admit it. They said I was finished— I was already with it. I wasn't sore. Not even sore. I just didn't see the point Of staying anymore. That's the funny thing about getting thrown away: You get to act like you were leaving anyway. [VERSE 2] The campus was asleep, which was a hell of a relief. No speeches, no advice, no educational belief. Just the buildings sitting there, looking old and dumb, Like they knew a kid was leaving but didn't give a damn. I walked past the windows. I walked past the doors. I walked past the places I'd been useless before. The cold got through my coat. My hands were getting numb. I kept on walking anyway. I didn't have to come. I could've felt terrible. I probably should've cried. But I kept making jokes To the guy walking inside. And that guy was a real bastard. Always had something to say. He could make a funeral boring If it got in his way. [VERSE 3] I went to see old Spencer. He was sick, or getting there. Had his blankets and his medicine And that smell in the air. He wanted to talk about my future. That's the part I couldn't stand. Like my future was a paper He could hold there in his hand. He said life was a game. I said, sure, if you say so. But I don't think the game's much fun When you're the last guy they let go. He read me my failures. He read me my marks. Like a guy reading obituaries In a room after dark. And I sat there nodding, Doing my best to look bored. I could've told him I was scared. I just didn't know what for. [VERSE 4] It's funny how they worry When you've already been dismissed. They ask you what you're doing Like there's something that you missed. I told him I was sorry. I told him I'd do better. I could've written him a novel On a little piece of letter. But I didn't. I just sat there. And I watched the clock. And I thought about the hallway And the cold outside the block. I hate when people mean it. That's a lousy thing to say. But when somebody gives a damn, You gotta give something away. So I made a couple cracks. Kept my eyes upon the floor. Then I got the hell out of there Before he could say more. [VERSE 5] And then there was Stradlater. He was getting ready for a date. He always looked like a guy Who'd never had to worry about being late. He asked me to write his composition. I said, sure, what the hell. He gave me the subject. I gave him something else. It was about my brother's baseball mitt. All those poems written inside. All the words he'd put there Before he died. I thought it was pretty good. Stradlater thought it was wrong. He wanted something normal. Something you could grade and move along. Which is a hell of a way To look at a dead kid's glove. But I guess some people Only know what they're told to love. [FREE JAZZ BREAK] I asked him about Jane. He said, "Relax." I said, "What'd you do?" He said, "Nothing." I said, "Nothing?" He said, "Nothing." I didn't like the way he said it. I didn't like the way he smiled. I didn't like the way he acted Like he hadn't met a child. I wanted him to tell me. I wanted him to lie. I wanted him to say something That I could justify. He called me a moron. I called him a name. He stood up. I stood up. And then we played the game. [BREAKDOWN] I got hit. Which wasn't the point. I mean, I got hit pretty good. But that wasn't the point. I was bleeding. He was standing there. And I was still thinking about Jane. [FINAL VERSE] So that's the third school. That's the third goodbye. That's the third time they tell you You're not worth the try. I could make it sound funny. I could make it sound grand. I could say I had a plan And I was taking a stand. But I didn't have a plan. I just had a coat. And a couple of cigarettes And a lump in my throat. They think they threw me out. That's what they think they did. But I was already halfway gone When I was still a kid. And maybe that's freedom. Maybe that's the trick. You get so good at leaving You don't notice when you're sick. [OUTRO] Four classes. Third school. I mean, it's not like I was planning to be a teacher. (soft laugh) I just thought I'd have A little more time.