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