“It’s called a mondegreen,” Jed said, perching on his desk. “It comes from the Lady Mondegreen, who is herself a mondegreen. It also stems from, in songs, the stress of unusual syllables when people sing or relaxed speaking.”

“It’s not just called misheard lyrics?” Mitch said.

“No, because it happens in poetry as well as songs,” Jed replied. “Anyone else have an example?”

“The wind are blowing the stars around,” Jessica called. “It’s an older song,” she added almost defensively.

“Tiny kangaroo down,” Alix said.

“What does that even mean?” Mitch asked, much to the amusement of the class.

Jed waved his hands to quiet them. When they were quieter he said, “If you disturb the other classes during these round table discussions, folks, we won’t be able to have them.”

“You don’t want to get in bed with him,” Raven said. “I’m better for your lovin’.”

“I’d better find your lovin’,” Jessica corrected, over the chuckles of the class. “The ‘get in bed with him’ thing is from the little talking part in the video, right? The old man tells him that he doesn’t want to get in bad with the gang leader.”

“That might be more of a malapropism,” Jed said softly. “But then, that’s more a said the wrong thing, than a heard the wrong thing, so maybe it is a mondegreen.” He looked up at the clock and smiled. “Your assignment, a creative writing piece on the mondegreen, ‘Donuts make my brown eyes blue’.” He waved a hand at the door and said, “Dismissed.”

“Yum, donuts,” Mitch said as they left the room. “They wouldn’t make me blue. I love donuts.”

“I have an idea,” Ashley said excitedly. “Can I have a pass for the library computer lab?” Jed smiled and wrote her the pass. Then he was alone.