Peter

He was fragile, he was vulnerable, they called him 'the walking wounded' and it was an accident just waiting to happen

28 years I've been facing my fears, I've always come back from the brink

I'm good at my job, the thing that I love, I try not to care what they think

I'm a bright bloke who struggles to cope, but faces the challenge head-on

I soak up the shit and I never quit; teaching's the life that I've drawn

But the years they pass and things they get hard, I'm buckling under the stress

Job's got too much, I was pushed in a bush, but I'm still loath to confess

Don't know what to think, my lesson plan stinks

I try, try, try

I'll never be free of more parents to see