Early in the morning.
Oh dear, it’s oh so boring,
Oh dear, someone’s snoring,
Now hear the teachers roaring,
Early in the morning.
What shall we do with the school inspector?
What shall we do with the school inspector?
What shall we do with the school inspector?
Early in the morning.
Put him in the classroom to watch the teachers,
Put him in the classroom to watch the teachers,
Put him in the classroom to watch the teachers,
Early in the morning.
Oh, look, I see him prying,
Oh dear, I see him spying,
Oh, hear the teachers crying,
Early in the morning.
What shall we do with the school inspector?
What shall we do with the school inspector?
What shall we do with the school inspector?
Early in the morning.
Let him have his lunch with the infant children,
Let him have his lunch with the infant children,
Let him have his lunch with the infant children,
Early in the morning.
Oh dear, he looks quite prickly,
Oh dear, that child feels sickly,
Oh dear, his suit’s all sticky,
Early in the morning.
What shall we do with the school inspector?
What shall we do with the school inspector?
What shall we do with the school inspector?
Early in the morning.
Put him in the playground when it’s snowing,
Put him in the playground when it’s snowing,
Put him in the playground when it’s snowing,
Early in the morning.
Oh dear, I hear his sneezing,
Oh dear, I hear him wheezing,
Oh dear, his hands are freezing,
Early in the morning.
What shall we do with the school inspector?
What shall we do with the school inspector?
What shall we do with the school inspector?
Early in the morning.
Lock him in the cupboard when the school day’s over,
Lock him in the cupboard when the school day’s over,
Lock him in the cupboard when the school day’s over,
Early in the morning.
Oh, can you hear him tapping?
Oh, how he’s madly rapping,
I hear the teachers clapping,
Until early the next morning.
Baking
‘We’ve been baking in class today,
Would you like my last jam tart?
It’s funny how clean my hands are now.
They were dirty at the start!’
Lament
On Monday I found a wasps’ nest in my garden,
Pale brown and thin as paper –
An oval husk.
I carried it carefully to school to show my teacher.
‘Very nice, Richard,’ said Miss Smout.
‘Pop it on my desk, dear, and we will look at it later.’
But we never did.
On Tuesday I found a feather in the gutter,
Deep purple and as soft as snow –
A delicate dart.
I carried it carefully to school to show my teacher.
‘Very nice, Richard,’ said Miss Smout.
‘Pop it on my desk, dear, and we will look at it later.’
But we never did.
On Wednesday I found a pebble in the playground.
Speckled green and hard as ice –
A dragon’s egg.
I carried it carefully into school to show my teacher.
‘Very nice, Richard,’ said Miss Smout.
‘Pop it on my desk, dear, and we will look at it later.’
But we never did.
On Thursday I found a key beneath the wall,
Rusty red and cold as winter –
A dungeon opener.
I carried it carefully into school to show my teacher.
‘Very nice, Richard,’ said Miss Smout.
‘Pop it on my desk, dear, and we will look at it later.’
But we never did.
On Friday I found a worksheet on my desk,
Long and white and with bold black print –
A tombstone.
I filled in all the blanks and carried it carefully
to show my teacher.
‘Very nice, Richard,’ said Miss Smout.
‘Pop it on my desk, dear, and we will look at it later.’
And unfortunately – we did.
The Sweet-shop Rap
If you go down to the shops today,
And you pop in the sweet shop on the way,
Well, sing out loud and dance and clap,
And all join in to this sweet-shop rap.
You gotta chew, chew, suck and munch,
Chomp and gnaw and nibble and crunch,
Sing and shout and dance and clap,
Just tap your feet to the sweet-shop rap.
There’s butterscotch and lemon drops,
Candyfloss and lollipops,
Gobstoppers, humbugs, icing-sugar mice,
You just make your choice and pay the price
You gotta chew, chew, suck and munch,
Chomp and gnaw and nibble and crunch,
Sing and shout and dance and clap,
Just tap your feet to the sweet-shop rap.
There’s jelly babies and bubble gum,
Aniseed balls and sugared plum,
Sticky toffee crammed in jars,
Marshmallow, fudge and marzipan bars.
You gotta chew, chew, suck and munch,
Chomp and gnaw and nibble and crunch,
Sing and shout and dance and clap,
Just tap your feet to the sweet-shop rap.
There’s dolly mixtures, sherbet dips,
Easter eggs and chocolate whips,
Nougat, bullseyes, seaside rock,
Just take your pick from the sweet-shop stock
You gotta chew, chew, suck and munch,
Chomp and gnaw and nibble and crunch,
Sing and shout and dance and clap,
Just tap your feet to the sweet-shop rap.
Mint imperials, liquorice whirls,
Coconut squares and caramel curls.
There’s every sort of sweet confection,
So don’t delay – make your selection.
You gotta chew, chew, suck and munch,
Chomp and gnaw and nibble and crunch,
Sing and shout and dance and clap,
Just tap your feet to the sweet-shop rap.
But wait a minute – stop this rap!
If you eat all those sweets you’ll get very very fat,
And you’ll certainly scream and squeal and shout,
And splutter and spit when your teeth fall out.
So don’t chew, chew, suck and munch,
Don’t chomp and gnaw and nibble and crunch,
Don’t sing out loud and dance and clap,
Let that be the end of the sweet-shop rap.
And that’s that!
I’m Not Scared
I’m not scared of vampire bats,
Growling wolves and hissing cats.
I’m not scared of snarling dogs,
Slippery slugs and jumping frogs,
And dancing shadows on the wall,
Well, they don’t bother me at all!
I’m not scared of slimy snails,
Whistling winds and howling gales.
I’m not scared of trembling quakes,
Hairy spiders, hissing snakes,
And ferocious pirates in a crowd,
Well, they just make me laugh out loud!
I’m not scared of stinging bees,
Wriggly worms and itchy fleas.
I’m not scared of darkened rooms,
Cackl
ing witches on their brooms,
And sharp-toothed monsters of the deep,
Well, they will send me off to sleep!
I’m not scared of grizzly bears,
Hospitals and dentist’s chairs,
Hurricanes and lightning flashes,
Tornadoes, whirlwinds, thunder crashes.
None of these give me a fright,
But Mummy, don’t turn out the light!
Our Cat Cuddles
Mum and Dad said one day:
Would you like a kitten? We could get one from the RSPCA.
I said:
I’d like a fat cat, a fierce cat,
A ferocious catch-a-rat cat.
Mum said:
I’d like a furry cat, a fluffy cat,
A friendly sit-on-your-lap cat.
Dad said:
I’d like a sleek cat, a meek cat,
A lazy, sleep-at-your-feet cat.
Lizzie said:
I don’t mind, whatever kind
Will be all right for me.
So one bright sunny summer’s day
We visited the RSPCA.
And at the pound, to our surprise,
Were animals of every shape and size.
Foxes, ferrets, pheasants, bats,
Terrapins, turtles, weasels, rats,
Hamsters, hedgehogs, snakes and voles,
Pigeons, parrots, mice and moles,
Horses, donkeys, newts and frogs,
Ducks and drakes and cats and dogs,
Rabbits, lizards, otters, owls,
Gerbils, goldfish, guinea-fowls,
Beavers, badgers, squirrels, stoats,
Swans and sheep and billy-goats.
We’d like a kitten, please, Dad said.
The keeper smiled and scratched his head.
What sort of cat have you in mind?
We’ve every colour and every kind.
I said:
I’d like a fierce cat, a fat cat
A ferocious, catch-a-rat cat.
The keeper said:
We’ve got tabby cats, shabby cats,
Wild cats, mild cats,
Creeping cats, sleeping cats,
Prowling cats, growling cats,
City cats, witty cats,
Lazy cats, crazy cats,
Shy cats, sly cats,
Spit-you-in-the-eye cats.
Mum said:
I’d like a furry cat, a fluffy cat,
A friendly, sit-on-your-lap cat.
The keeper said:
We’ve got white cats, night cats,
Dancing cats, prancing cats,
Slim cats, trim cats,
Lanky cats, swanky cats,
Frizzy cats, dizzy cats,
Moody cats, broody cats,
Lean cats, mean cats,
Very, very clean cats.
Dad said:
I’d like a sleek cat, a meek cat,
A lazy, sleep-at-your-feet cat.
The keeper said:
We’ve got grey cats, stray cats,
Hissing cats, kissing cats,
Fair cats, rare cats,
Grumpy cats, lumpy cats,
Old cats, bold cats,
Slender cats, tender cats,
Town cats, brown cats,
Jumping-up-and-down cats.
We looked in every cage and then
We came upon a wire pen,
And in the corner all alone,
There curled a kitten – skin and bone,
With great sad eyes and matted fur,
We heard its faint pathetic purr.
Lizzie clapped her hands in glee,
‘That kitten is the one for me!’
We called him Cuddles and took him home,
Since then he’s grown and grown and grown.
I say:
It sits in the sun and growls all day,
Then chases all my friends away.
Mum says:
It’s scratched the curtains into shreds,
It’s ripped the sheets on all the beds.
Dad says:
It’s gnawed the table, chomped the chairs,
It’s chewed the carpet on the stairs.
Well, I don’t care, said Little Liz,
I like him just the way he is.
He’s now got fangs and massive paws,
A shaggy mane and sharp, sharp claws,
Great golden eyes and rumbling growl,
A long brown tail and fearsome howl.
But we’ve had to change his name to Brian.
Because Cuddles does not suit a lion!
Interview with the Headmaster
Headmaster: Why are you here outside my
room, boy?
Pupil: Mr Pounder sent me out of class, Sir.
Headmaster: Sent you out!
Pupil: Yes, Sir. He told me to wait outside your
room.
Headmaster: Did he?
Pupil: Yes, Sir.
Headmaster: Why did Mr Pounder send you out?
Pupil: Gross insolence, Sir.
Headmaster: Gross insolence?
Pupil: Yes, Sir
Headmaster: You’ve been sent out for
gross insolence?
Pupil: That’s right, Sir.
Headmaster: This sounds very serious.
Pupil: Yes, Sir.
Headmaster: What did you say, boy?
Pupil: I didn’t say anything, Sir.
Headmaster: What do you mean you didn’t say
anything?
Pupil: I didn’t say anything, Sir.
Headmaster: How can you be grossly insolent
if you did not say anything?
Pupil: I wrote it down, Sir.
Headmaster: You wrote it down?
Pupil: Yes, Sir. We were asked to write an essay.
Headmaster: An essay?
Pupil: Yes, Sir.
Headmaster: What sort of essay?
Pupil: A long essay, Sir.
Headmaster: And what was the title of this
long essay?
Pupil: Imagine you are a new-born baby and
describe your first week in the world, Sir.
Headmaster: And?
Pupil: And I wrote three pages, Sir.
Headmaster: And?
Pupil: I was sent out, Sir.
Headmaster: What did you write, boy?
Pupil: Glug, glug, glug, glug, glug… Sir.
Lizzie’s Spider
When Lizzie was a little girl,
A tiny tot of three,
She found a spider in the hall,
It crawled up on her knee.
Eight hairy legs the spider had,
And a body like a pea,
And little Lizzie picked it up,
And held it tenderly.
When Lizzie was a little girl,
A tiny tot of three,
Each day she’d go into the hall,
That spider for to see.
She’d watch it spin its silvery web
Of finest filigree,
And little Lizzie picked it up,
And held it tenderly.
When Lizzie was a little girl,
A tiny tot of three,
She took the spider from the hall,
Her mother for to see,
And found her in the kitchen,
Busy making tea.
‘What have you there?’ her mother asked,
‘Oh, Lizzie, let me see.’
When Lizzie was a little girl,
A tiny tot of three,
She opened wide her little hands,
And smiled in child-like glee,
And showed her mother what she held
So very tenderly.
Mummy shot out of the kitchen
Like a squirrel up a tree.
Now Lizzie, she is all grown up,
And a happy girl is she,
But she’s terrified of spiders.
Now – why ever should that be?
When I Grow Up
‘When I grow up,’ Elizabeth said, ‘a PRINCESS I will be,
With a crown on my head and a cloak of red
And the crowds will stare at me.
But I am rather shy,’ she said with a sigh,
‘so that won’t do for me!’
‘When I grow up,’ Elizabeth said, ‘an ASTRONAUT I’ll be.
And I’ll spin through space with a smile on my face
And be back in time for tea.
But I think I would cry so high in the sky,
so that won’t do for me!’
‘When I grow up,’ Elizabeth said, ‘a SAILOR I will be.
And I’ll ride the gale on a great white whale
When I swim away to sea.
But I get very sick when I sail in a ship,
so that won’t do for me!’
‘When I grow up,’ Elizabeth said, ‘an EXPLORER I will be.
In a jungle dank, I’ll sit on a bank
With a tiger on my knee.
But I might get a scratch from that great big cat,
so that won’t do for me!’
‘When I grow up,’ Elizabeth said, ‘an ARTIST I will be.
And I’ll draw and I’ll etch and I’ll paint and I’ll sketch
Everything I see.
But the smell of paint will make me feel faint,
so that won’t do for me!’
‘When I grow up,’ Elizabeth said, ‘a MILLIONAIRE I’ll be.
And I’ll lock every pound in a chest in the ground
And hide away the key.
But I might not recall where I’ve hidden it all,
so that won’t do for me!’
‘When I grow up,’ Elizabeth said,
‘I know just what I’ll be.
I’ll be like my mum and have lots of fun
Looking after a girl like ME!’
When Lizzie Was Born
When Lizzie was born, Dad called the brothers
(aged nine and seven and five)
Into the kitchen and announced grandly:
‘You have a baby sister.’
He smiled like a fat-faced frog which had caught a fly.
The boys looked deeply unimpressed.
‘We thought that it would be a boy,’ said Richard,
Accompanied by his brothers’ serious nods.
The Day Our Teacher Went Batty Page 4
