Interestingly, the last playground rhyme I can remember is probably the most violent one. And it's always the teachers and principals who get the harshest treatment. I can't say I'm proud we sang these songs, but that's life; we did. And of all the people I went to school with, I don't recall any of them committing an act of violence (except the occasional knuckle-head fight in a bar or in the alley). Like I said earlier, I think these songs now would be cause for suspension or even expulsion. Back then, the songs were sick fantasies. Today, they could well be scripts or dress-rehearsals. . .
[to the tune of "On Top Of Old Smokey"]
On top of spaghetti, all covered in blood,
I shot my poor teacher with a 40 foot stud.
I shot her with glory, i shot her with pride,
I couldn't have missed her she was 40 feet wide.
I went to her funeral, I went to her grave,
Some people threw flowers, I threw a grenade.
I opened her coffin--she wasn't quite dead,
So I took a bazooka and blew off her head!
---o0o---
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