Some people say a teacher is
Made out of steel
But a teacher's made out of
Stuff that can feel
A mind and a body and a tortured soul
The ability to teach the shy and the bold

I teach forty two kids and what do I get
Another day older and deeper in debt
St Peter don't you call me
To that Golden Gate
I owe my soul to the youth of the state

I was born one morning it was cloudy and cool
I picked up my register and
Walked to the school
I entered forty-two names on my class roll
And the Super said ' Well bless my soul'
I teach forty two kids and what do I get
Another day older and deeper in debt
St peter don't you call me
To the Heavenly Shore
I've got forty two students and
They're sending me more

There's a child on every seat
From wall to wall
If they send any more they'll have
To stand in the hall
They're breathing down my neck and
Treading on my toes
They're telling me their joys and
I'm sharing all their woes

I teach forty two kids and what do I get
Another day older and deeper in debt
St Peter don't you call me
To that Golden Gate
I owe my soul to the youth of the state

Well the bell rings at four
But my bed's not made
I still have all of these papers to grade
The faculty meets at seven they say
And tomorrow there's a meeting of the PTA

I teach forty two kids and what do I get
Younger in heart and nothing to regret
St peter don't you call me
'cause I can't leave here
I'll have forty two kids again next year