By: Charles Osgood
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.
terrific at reading,
He wasn't a whiz-bang at math;
But for him education was
Straight down a pretty good path.
He didn't find school too exciting,
But he 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 plus five needn't always add up to be ten,
A pretty good answer was nine.
The pretty good class that he sat in
Was part of a pretty good school,
And the student was not an exception,
On the contrary, he was the rule.
The pretty good school that he went to
Was in a pretty good town.
And nobody seemed to notice
He could not
tell a verb from a noun.
The pretty good student in fact was
Part of a pretty
And 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,
He discovered that
life could be tough,
And he soon had a sneaky suspicion
Pretty good might
not be good enough.
The pretty good town in our story
Was part of a pretty
Which had pretty good aspirations,
And prayed for a pretty
There once was a pretty good nation,
Pretty proud of the
greatness it had,
Which learned much too late
If you want to be great,
good is, in fact, pretty bad.