I come from a little town where
Education is extremely rare.
You used a dictionary if you wanted to swear,
But most of the time the words weren’t there
(so you'd say 'damn').

When I went to the states they were quite amused 
at the way I spoke and the words I used,
And the language there left me quite confused, 
Sometimes 1’m sure I was just abused 
(Called me an Afrikaans Boar!).

Well things became pretty absurd
So I bought me a book full of really good words, 
Some nouns and names and crazy adverbs,
With a thousand different ways to call your friend a turd.
 (Yep Roget's THESAURUS)
(and I thought that was a physical complaint).

Found out 'yes' wasn't the answer to give; you had to reply ‘in the affirmative’.
And just to say "No' wasn't necessary; you had to negate it ‘positively’.

When I 'd read the book my IQ rose
I can swear in French now and quelque chose.
Also found out that all the good pros 
Don't just hang out in Bordellos. 
(Tell yuh.' I used to think ‘onomatopoeia’ was just another way of doing it)

When I came to England the greatest bane 
Was that all my studies had been in vain.
In lectures I could see students' interest wane,
But I knew that I couldn't complain
(they wouldn't understand me, anyway).

Well I never really got the hang, 
So I bought a book of Knots by R.D. Laing.
Now I know, they didn't know,
I didn't know, they didn't understand, 
And I now understand that their understanding of me was
that they didn't understand me, 
Not understanding this meant I wasn’t understood.

We had a professor that came from America but was originally a South African.
He spoke in the most convoluted sentences one could imagine.
One day we cornered him after the lecture and asked him what he's been talking about.
He was genuinely surprised that he wasn't getting through to us and changed his tack.
Turned out to be an o.k. guy and we finished up at my flat
a few times with him in tow after a night out. He didn't take offense at this talking blues.