Education enlarges us.Written by Malcolm James Pugh
Our education enlarges us.
In days of old, when life was bold, And schools owned fields and land, We played serene, acted out our dreams, With nothing dangerous being banned, Now we roll in late, grossly overweight, If we even deign to show our faces, And clipboard man with his cardboard plan, Puts us through our non sunburned paces, Now it appears all these stark fears, And dread of falling and disaster, Sold off our fields, while they but kneeled, To a politically correct Grand Master, So though obese, we are at peace, Though consuming rubbish we can smile, Though weighed down we seldom frown Because were much safer by a mile.
What price competition, breeding attrition, What use excellence when some must lose, Theres no Einstein and no Frankenstein Theres just fat drones from which to choose, Successive generations of a nation, Robbed of will to be fit and bright, Brainwashed by day, to their teachers way, Mentally chained to TV all night, We were naughty and lived past forty, And still have our health and mind, For we were schooled to different rules, That seemed cruel but were kind,
Its not obscene to have a dream, Not appalling to aspire to winning, In past someone came last, But victor was not sinning, And whatever face won race, Whatever hand held academic prizes, The losers were slim, and used gym, Were not mothball wrapped oversizes, Everyone gained from competitive games, From trying to be part of an elite, You raised your sights, you saw light, Started thinking on your own feet.
FUN LOOK AT A LADY HANG-GLIDERWritten by VJ Gibson
Women can be sports widows when husbands take to tube, but what’s a man to do when his lady love is a hang-glider? Cyril May and Jack McDonald explore this question in their playful tune, Macho Mountain Mama on their CD, "Off The Beaten Track."
‘When warm winds from valleys
Sweep on up mountain side
When thermals are a pumping all around
When birds are all grounded
‘Cause wind’s too rough to fly
Then Macho Mountain Mama’s up there flyin’ high.’
In song, Cyril’s lyrics show a real appreciation for adventurous woman obsessed with a pastime that leaves her man far below. But a twinge of jealousy for her high-flying freedom comes through as well. The lilting instrumentals add bounce to piece, and keep our feet tapping along in time. Jack McDonald adds his special arrangements to mix, and result is a musical romp.