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As we stood by the music room,
We could hear her piano boom,
We feared her beatings on our cheeks,
Which made us feel quite meek
We named her 'Rambo',
Which reminded us of 'Mogambo',
Her mighty eyes glared at us,
As if nothing was important than us,
Never did we dare to glaze,
Or we'd have got a mighty blaze,
And when the Bell finally rang,
We stood out with our gang,
Whenever we lacked in manner,
We were showed towards the banner,
This is how we spent our days,
Until she went on that summer May.

In memory of my music teacher who taught music in standard Four.

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