A ringing sound awakes the young mans ears

 Rushes to a room with a desks and peers

 He sits slowly sits like the desk is a form of lava

He remembers hes not that kid that yells for mama

But simply wants to remember that he is doing it for her

So he rubs his hair which is as soft as fur

knowing the place as which he sleeps is't so great

but he knows that when the ringing sound appears it will be fate

Looking at the clock ticking but wishes it would stop

Feeling like a poor soul trapped in a filled box

repeats do it for the one who gave birth to you

As school is a virtue