I Hate English Class - The Song

 

 I  Hate English

My English class is so boring,

I have it every Monday at five,

My teacher caught me snoring, (roncar)

I swear his class gives me hives. (urticaria)

 

I study it at home and have classes at school,

My parents make me do it, I think it’s just cruel.

It’s for my own good, at least that’s what they say.

I suffer through English class, but I just want to play.

 

Why oh why do I have to learn English?

I started when I was five and I’ll never finish.

On my death bed I’ll be studying the simple past tense,

I study every day, but it never makes sense.

 

My class is worse than prison, so I wrote this song.

My parents are punishing me, but I did nothing wrong.

I’m digging a tunnel to escape, I need to be free.

I don’t like to speak it, I sound like a monkey.

Why do I need to learn “To be or not to be?”

 

Odio el inglés

Mi clase de inglés es muy aburrida,

Tengo que ir todos los lunes a las cinco,

Mi profesor me pilló roncando,

Juro que su clase me da urticaria.

 

Estudio en casa y tengo clases en el colegio,

Mis padres me obligan a hacerlo,

creo que es simplemente cruel.

Es por mi propio bien, al menos eso es lo que dicen.

Sufro en clase de inglés, pero solo quiero jugar.

 

¿Por qué, oh, por qué tengo que aprender inglés?

Empecé cuando tenía cinco años y nunca terminaré.

En mi lecho de muerte estaré estudiando el pasado simple,

Estudio todos los días, pero nunca tiene sentido.

 

Mi clase es peor que la prisión, así que escribí esta canción.

Mis padres me están castigando, pero no hice nada malo.

Estoy cavando un túnel para escapar, necesito ser libre.

No me gusta hablarlo, sueno como un mono.

¿Por qué necesito aprender “Ser o no ser”?

 By William Shakespeare

(from Hamlet, spoken by Hamlet)

To be, or not to be, that is the question:

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer

The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,

Or to take arms against a sea of troubles

And by opposing end them. To die—to sleep,

No more; and by a sleep to say we end

The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks

That flesh is heir to: 'tis a consummation

Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;

To sleep, perchance to dream—ay, there's the rub:

 

Pure Imagination

Come with me and you'll be
In a world of pure imagination
Reach out, touch what was once
Just in your imagination

Don't be shy, it's alright
If you feel a little trepidation
Sometimes these things don't need
Explanation

If you want to view paradise
Simply look at them and view it
Somebody to hold on to, it's
All we really need
Nothing else to it