Some Crap, Part V

Our class store room got locked two days ago. There goes our busking site. Me and a fellow classmate of mine used to bring guitars to school and play whatever songs that came to mind in that small, lonely place with a sound/fire-proofed door. It came very useful when a few of us used to sneaked in after finishing Geography or Maths or English homework during class and play Viva La Vida and Wake Me Up When September Ends before coming out to realise it was already recess and everybody has gone out. Then we would go in and play more stuff until it school was over. Just kidding. For me, it was a sanctuary for those who were mentally and physically bored with crapness of school life and seeking for ultimate pleasure in it's purest form, that is, music. Holy crap, what the hell am I writing? I guess I was just going through such a difficult phase of the reality that I am probably not going to go in there for forever and that hurts so much that I am emotionally distressed to the point of thinking of failing my BM trial paper so that I could make my freaking teacher who caught us playing during her period piss off and regret not letting us release our creative juices in a more productive way so we don't end up like zombies in a far land called North Korea and infect millions of others with the some lethal poisonious gas that disrupts our brains from working so that we can all be communists and hppies at the same time, smoking weed and drinking beer from a well in order to act like a scholar in China voting for democracy near Tiananmen where thousands were killed and I really have to stop writing before I get caught by Kim Jong Il and his communist brethrens for writing something illegal that could cause World War III to happen more quickly than it will and make me a prisoner in Cuba where Fidel Castro would c*strate your prostrate glands. Wow, that was long. I think I'm finished with my crap. Time to write a song about it. I'll call it "The Communist C*stration Makes Us Sad People", but I still think it sounds too political for a four chord song. What about "BM Makes Me Want to Puke Crap" instead? Anyway, I gotta finish a song about my BO challenged friend Shahrul aptly titled "Shahrul, Apa Bau Itu?" first. Crap, I'm behind schedule.....