O! Canned nectar from metal teats
Your taste my morning completes
In my cup with grainy roasted green cha
Two drops of coffee from the last user
On sunny days your fount of icy water
Quenches me as classrooms gets hotter
Bottomless paper cup the teacher’s prerogative
Although cup bringers are quite derogative
When out of sorts your steel plastic guts expose
Parched teachers stand in despaired throes
Pull their hair and pace the staffroom floor
Till your tinny refreshing waters flow once more
