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Parents’ Evening

We’re waiting in the corridor,

My dad, my mum and me.

They’re sitting there and talking;

I’m nervous as can be.

I wonder what she’ll tell ’em.

I’ll say I’ve got a pain!

I wish I’d got my spellings right.

I wish I had a brain.

We’re waiting in the corridor,

My husband, son and me.

My son just stands there smiling;

I’m smiling, nervously.

I wonder what she’ll tell us.

I hope it’s not all bad.

He’s such a good boy, really;

But dozy – like his dad.

We’re waiting in the corridor,

My wife, my boy and me.

My wife’s as cool as cucumber;

I’m nervous as can be.

I hate these parents’ evenings.

The waiting makes me sick.

I feel just like a kid again

Who’s gonna get the stick.

I’m waiting in the classroom.

It’s nearly time to start.

I wish there was a way to stop

The pounding in my heart.

The parents in the corridor

Are chatting cheerfully;

And now I’ve got to face them,

And I’m nervous as can be.