She teaches with me in a secondary modern school
She teaches art and design
The kids think she's cool
She takes a Polaroid each day
It helps us remember
It's better that way
She's got a boyfriend, I've got a wife
She don't love hers, but I love mine
I'm a good, good boy
And I know how to draw the line
With years seven, eight, and nine
Every Monday lunchtime
Oh, I've been in a rush
The same as everyone else
I should've taken more time to convince myself
That the Bangladesh boys down on Upton Lane
They can teach us just the same
Give the boys what they want
Give the boys what they want
They don't know what they want
But give the boys what they want
I feel like I'm letting everybody down
Wanted to paint it red
Paint the whole of Stratford town
Well, you know your eyes are
Right in the middle of your head
That's what the art teacher said
I don't believe it, myself
If I shiver and shake
If I rattle and quake
If I hold back the tears
Will that make it safe?
'Cause the Catholic girls
With the cornrowed hair
They can teach us just the same
They can teach us just the same
Give the girls what they want
Give the girls what they want
They don't know what they want
But give the girls what they want
Oh, give the kids what they want
Give the kids what they want
We don't know what they want
So give the kids what they want
Oh, I've been in a rush
The same as everyone else
I should've taken more time to convince myself
That the Bangladesh boys down on Upton Lane
When they see her, feel the same
A strong comment here is specific: the phrase you keep hearing, the mood you come back for, or the reason this song stays in rotation.
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