I had a bad case of writer's block in the fourth grade. It was our country's bicentennial anniversary, and there had been a spate of patriotic assemblies and events at school in honor of the auspicious occasion. I remember singing "America the Beautiful" on the school stage, and then later, on the swingset, the older boys repeating the performance with some of the lyrics revised to "God shed his shit on thee." I may have joined in a little bit.
I also remember a peppy number we sang as Mrs. Daniels, the music teacher, kept time and mesmerized us with the undulating flesh of her upper arms: