There once was a pretty good student Who sat in a pretty good class Was taught by a pretty good teacher Who always let "pretty good" pass He wasn't terrific at reading; He wasn't a whiz-bang at math For him education was leading Straight down a pretty good path He didn't find school too exciting But wanted to do pretty well, And he did have some trouble with writing, And nobody taught him to spell When doing arithmetic problems, "Pretty Good" was regarded as fine; Five and five needn't add up to be ten A pretty good answer was nine. The pretty good student was happy With the standards that were in effect, And nobody thought it was sappy If his answers were not quite correct. The pretty good class that he sat in Was part of a pretty good school And "Pretty Good" was not an exception; In fact.......he was the rule That pretty good school that he went to Was right there in a pretty good town; But nobody there ever noticed That he couldn't tell a verb from a noun The pretty good student, in fact was A part of a pretty good mob, The first time he knew what he lacked was When he looked for a pretty good job. It was then, when he sought a position, And discovered that life can be tough, He soon had a sneaky suspicion, Pretty good wasn't just good enough The pretty good town in our story' Was part of a pretty good state Which had pretty good aspirations Prayed to God for a pretty good fate......... There once was a pretty good nation, Pretty proud of the greatness it had, But which learned - much too late, If you want to be great Pretty dood is.........in fact, pretty bad.......... Charles Osgood, CBS News
Deep down Louisiana close to New Orleans Way back up in the woods among the evergreens There stood a log cabin made of earth and wood Where lived a country boy named Johnny B. Goode Who never ever learned to read or write so well But he could play the guitar just like a ringing a bell Get a guitar.
