I went up to the schoolhouse on a hill
Hay bales were stacked in what had been the yard
Between the frames of the swings
And the basketball hoop on its pole
Some flakes of whitewash
Still on the bare wood of the schoolhouse wall
Mmh-mmh-mmh-mmh-mmh
Many years passed by
(I am) Dreamin’ dreamin’ dreamin’ dreamin
Dreamin’ dreamin’ dreamin’ dreamin’
In that schoolhouse on the hill
A dead woodpecker lay on the floor
Swallows had built their mud igloos on the wall
Still the school retained
A smell of morning milk, wet coats and spelling bees
The place had been heated by a great cast iron stove
Dusty and birdlimed now
Mmh-mmh-mmh-mmh-mmh
Many years passed by
(I am) Dreamin’ dreamin’ dreamin’ dreamin
Dreamin’ dreamin’ dreamin’ dreamin’
In that schoolhouse on the hill
In the teachers room somewhere down below
Ice heaves had wrecked the concrete floor
But everything else
Seemed to be (still) in place
The single bed, the upright chair
The rocker for the radio
Mmh-mmh-mmh-mmh-mmh
Many years passed by
(I am) Dreamin’ dreamin’ dreamin’ dreamin
Dreamin’ dreamin’ dreamin’ dreamin’
In that schoolhouse on the hill
(I am) Dreamin’ dreamin’ dreamin’ dreamin
Dreamin’ dreamin’ dreamin’ dreamin’
In that schoolhouse on the hill
(I am) Dreamin’ dreamin’ dreamin’ dreamin
Dreamin’ dreamin’ dreamin’ dreamin’
In that schoolhouse on the hill
Words from the book "Bad Land" by Jonathan Raban used with kind permission of the author.