As I look back upon my younger daze,
I really was a maniac.
Blowing up a john with a cherry bomb,
Gave the janitor a cardiac.
The teachers would say,
'They should lock him away
And throw away all of the keys -- please!
He's outta control,
The devil's gotta hold of his soul!'
Many were the times that my buddies and I
Joked upon a cigarette.
Gettin' too drunk to talk and we could barely walk,
Swearing for the hell of it.
Then I'd hitch a ride to see the president's daughter,
Her parties were so out of sight --right!
Danced until dawn while her parents were clean outta 
town!
Whoa!
High school, preschool, kindergarten rules
Twelve long years of the education blues!
Teachers, preachers, principals and fools
I don't know how I ever made it through!
Oh yeah!
Then I'd hitch a ride to see the president's daughter,
Their parties were so out of sight --right!
Danced until dawn while her parents were clean out of 
town!
Whoa!
High school, preschool, kindergarten rules
Twelve long years of the education blues!
Teachers, preachers, principals and fools
I don't know how I ever made it through!
Many were the times that my buddies and I
Joked upon a cigarette.
Gettin' too drunk to talk and we could barely walk,
Swearin' for the hell of it.
Oh when, the teachers would say,
'They should lock us away
And throw away all of the keys -- please!
They're outta control,
The devil's gotta hold of their...
They're outta control
The devil's gotten a hold of their soul!'
Written by Glen Vance and Michael Towers