The Hammer

I believe that . . . Matilda Wormwood is an exception . . . to the rules

An exception. To the rules. In my school?

Look at these trophies

See how my trophies gleam in the sunlight?

See how they shine?

What do you think it took to become English Hammer Throwing Champion 1969?

Do you think in that moment, when my big moment came

That I treated the rules with casual disdain?

Well? Like hell!

As I stepped up to the circle, did I change my plan?

Hm? What?

As a chalked up my palms, did I wave my hands?

I did not!

As I started my spin, did I look at the view?

Did I drift off and dream for a minute or two?

Do you think I faltered or amended my rotation?

Do you think I altered my intended elevation?

As the hammer took off, did I change my grunt

From the grunt I had practiced for many a month?

Not a jot!

Not a dot did I stray from the plot

Not a detail of my throw was adjusted or forgotten

Not even when the hammer left my hands

And sailed high up, up above the stands

Did I let myself go

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no . . . no

If you want to throw the hammer for your country

You have to stay inside the circle all the time

And if you want to make the team

You don't need happiness or self-esteem

You just need to keep your feet inside the line

Sing, children. Two, three, four

If you want to throw the hammer for your country

Bambinatum est magitum

You have to stay inside the circle

All the time

Circulum, maggitum, maggitum

And if you want to teach success

You don't use sympathy or tenderness

Tenderness

You have to force the little squits to toe the line!

Sing, Jenny! Two, three, four!

If you want to throw the hammer for your country

Bambinatum! Bambinatum! Gloria Magitum!

You have to stay inside the circle all the time