Teacher's orders, teacher's orders, they are ringing in my ears,
Like a roaring, booming cannon from Napoleonic years;
Setting homework, and assignments, and bringing weary thoughts to me
Of the approaching examinations and the few weeks that will flee.
There's a hush o'er the sportsground as the starter's gun is fired,
And the competitors all sprint off but soon will all be tired,
For the teachers aren't content to keep us working all the day,
But set us long cross-country races that are designed to slay.
Yet 'neath that craggy visage and looks so stern and cold,
Although some might doubt it, there beats a heart of gold,
For when school socials come around and laughter and fun abound,
He's there dancing with a smile and handing drinks around.