Dr. Thistlewood’s Weedy Wisdom

[Catchy Intro Hook] (Verse 1) In the hallowed halls of academia’s maze, Lurks Dr. Thistlewood with his weary gaze. “Sit down, let’s talk weeds,” he starts with a sigh, “Invasive species that just won’t die.” (Chorus) Oh, Dr. Thistlewood, with your tales so grim, Teaching us how not to be like him. A garden of dreams, somehow misled, Where ambitions go reluctantly to bed. (Verse 2) He inherited books, dusty and old, On thorny thickets, so we’re told. “Learn the roots and the shoots,” he drones on, But his passion for teaching is long gone. (Chorus) Oh, Dr. Thistlewood, with your lackluster cheer, Your lectures on dandelions aren’t quite clear. A monotone voice, a thistle’s embrace, In the garden of knowledge, he’s out of place. (Bridge) “Why aim high, in fields of despair? Find a new dandelion? But why should you care?” With every weed named, a student’s dream wilts, In the taxonomy of boredom, Dr. Thistlewood’s built. (Verse 3) No pushing for greatness, no seeds of thought sown, Just a field of the mundane, overgrown. If weeds are his game, then let it be known, This professor’s garden is all but overthrown. (Chorus) Oh, Dr. Thistlewood, what lessons we learn, Not of growth or passion, but how dreams burn. Yet in his garden, wild and unkept, We find the strength to dream where he never stepped. (Outro) So thank you, Dr. Thistlewood, you’ve shown us the way, Not through your teachings, but in what you don’t say. In fields of invasive weeds, we’ll write our own tale, To seek out the sun, where you’ve only found gale. [end] [fade out]