Everyone sings songs wrong. The best songs come from the heart -or from depraved minds.
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the burning of the school.
We have tortured every teacher, we have broken every rule.
Childhood version of Battle Hymn of the Republic
On top of spaghetti,
All covered with cheese,
I lost my poor meatball,
When somebody sneezed.
It rolled off the table,
And on to the floor,
And then my poor meatball,
Rolled out of the door.
Childhood version of On Top Of Old Smoky
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