It's like it was invented just to make you mad
I mean really, who doesn't it make sad?
A plague is what it is
I wont figure, I can't take more of this
Go to hell with your algebra,
And I'll salute you with an orchestra
Pack up geometric and carry it away,
put it somewhere where it'll always lay
And you teachers, go get a life!
Get married, get laid, do what you've always had to strive
Tell your colleagues they've wasted their time,
And go have a bite of that life that is a lime
The world would only make more sense,
If math was to be removed from its ophthalmic lens.
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