They come into my room
a spinning roulette of emotion
billions of pressures
a struggle to control them
One says, "What's up, Mr. Teacher"
I stay up late on Sundays
Because my mind races to meet theirs.
He says, "I cried yesterday
because it hurts to go to school,"
and I feel like shattered window
shards in my heart cutting through
a spinning roulette of emotion
billions of pressures
a struggle to control them
One says, "What's up, Mr. Teacher"
I stay up late on Sundays
Because my mind races to meet theirs.
He says, "I cried yesterday
because it hurts to go to school,"
and I feel like shattered window
shards in my heart cutting through