Thirty years I've stood here,
In the school on the swamp land,
I whisper stories to people who come near
Of all the things I have seen in those thirty years.

I have see love, honor, and shame,
Anger and grief, toil and pain,
People walk by me, along me, beside me,
But none have heard the words I whisper to them.

Now soon come time for me to go,
Worn, tattered, molded and old I have grown.
Before I must leave, only one request do I seek,
For one young hearter student to hear my voice ring.

I will tell of rings of laughter jumping by me
The girls' giggling of the hansome boy beside me,
Slamming against me, a young man with no fear
Of the boy who's pushing he substanded which I hear.

We will chat about true love's first kiss
And shattering hearts of much to young kids,
New friends coming closer, old friends growing stronger,
And sobbing herd of goodbyes when summer is here.

Thirty years I've stood here,
In the school out on the swamp land,
I whispered my stories to you now
Of all the things I've seen in those thirty years.