The Enchantment of Music

The Bricks are Falling from the Wall

Sitting in class, ear-bud in one ear, Carl opened the piece of paper in his desk, pretending to watch the teacher. The paper read:

Carl,

What are we playing at the talent show?

Craig

Carl pondered this for a moment, remembering now that the talent show only allowed one song per group. He pulled his phone from his pocket, turning it on in his desk, scrolling through the music. As he came to a large group of similar, white, simplistic album covers, Mr. Andrews approached him, casting a shadow upon Carl's desk. He snatched the phone from his hands, ripping the headphones from his ear, threw it to the ground, and stomping upon it. "So, Mr. Green," Andrews said, picking up the paper from Carl's desk, "You're going to be playing at the talent show? With Mr. Phillips?" He chuckled.

Carl stood, grabbing the paper from Andrews' hands, "Yeah, you phone-smashing-b*****d. I am."

Andrews looked sympathetic for a moment as Carl sat back in his chair, adjusting his bangs, then went back to his maniacal laughter, pausing only for a moment, "That's detention, Mr. Green.". From his desk, Craig pulled a thick straw, tearing a bit of paper from the corner of a page in his notebook. A loud, wet thud sounded as the spitball fired from the end of the straw, hitting Mr. Andrews in the back of the head. He turned frantically, "DETENTION!!!"

---

Jim watched as Craig and Carl entered the room commonly used for detention. He also watched as they, beginning to somewhat approach him, noticed him, and walked to the other end of the room to find a seat. Jim didn't know too much about the two, but he knew enough to know they were in a band, and they needed a drummer. Mr. Andrews, who was supervising detention, eventually needed to be excused, and during that time, the three boys had a conversation:

"Hey, kids." Jim said, a sly smile on his face.

"Screw off, James." Carl sighed.

In a gesture of sarcastic offense, Jim put his hand to his chest, "Well, I never..."

"What do you want, Jim?" Craig asked, annoyed.

"Well," Jim said, "I heard you were lookin' for a drummer."

---

 Directly after a mediocre rendition of Hitler Has Only Got one Ball  by some nerd with a trombone, the band approached the stage, with Jim on drums, Craig on bass, and Carl on guitar and vocals, the band approached the stage. "And now," the announcer yelled into the microphone, "We have James Greyson, Carl Green, and Craig Phillips in... Guys, what's your band name?"

Carl leaned close into the microphone, saying awkwardly, "Uhh... We're... The..." He looked back at Jim and Craig, "We're the Liberators." The crowd laughed and Carl looked back at his band-mates, rolling his eyes. They began to play.

Imagine there's no heaven
It's easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people
Living for today...

Imagine there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace...

You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will be as one

Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world...

You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will live as one

There was no applause, only a look of sudden realization and dropped jaw in the auditorium. When Carl spoke into the microphone, "We're uhh... We're finished... You can cheer now." When Craig began to strum a second tune on the bass, there was no reaction. When the rest of the band began to play, there was no reaction.

Daddy's flown across the ocean
Leaving just a memory
Snapshot in the family album
Daddy what else did you leave for me?
Daddy, what'd'ja leave behind for me?!?
All in all it was just a brick in the wall.
All in all it was all just bricks in the wall.

There was a sudden pause as the music changed, picking up in beat and tune. It was at this moment that all of the students stood, the teachers looking around, exchanging worried looks.

We don't need no education
We dont need no thought control
No dark sarcasm in the classroom
Teachers leave them kids alone
Hey! Teachers! Leave them kids alone!
All in all it's just another brick in the wall.
All in all you're just another brick in the wall.

It was at this point that the student began to sing along.

We don't need no education
We don’t need no thought control
No dark sarcasm in the classroom
Teachers leave them kids alone
Hey! Teachers! Leave them kids alone!
All in all it's just another brick in the wall.
All in all you're just another brick in the wall.

In that final line, the students began an all-out rebellion, attacking the teachers with their fists, their chairs. It was a liberation. Seeing all that they had caused, the band looked at each other, smirking. They turned back to face the crowd, playing the third and final part of their song.

I don't need no arms around me
And I dont need no drugs to calm me.
I have seen the writing on the wall.
Don't think I need anything at all.
No! Don't think I'll need anything at all.
All in all it was all just bricks in the wall.
All in all you were all just bricks in the wall.

The students,  leaving their teachers unconscious in the auditorium, left for the halls, to liberate those students who had not yet been so, and to terrorize those teachers who had not yet been so. They burst through walls, broke down chalkboards, destroyed tv screens and computer, the school was in shambles. And it was all due to James Greyson, Craig Phillips, and Carl Green.