Well look at the kid from school

He's teaching mamas and papas how to be a little cool

He's changing fashion, the way he dress

The tracksuits are old, and the hoody's way too moody

For the kid with the will to funk

He dances in secret; he's a part-time punk



She's getting off the plane

She wants to write a thesis on the population underprivileged

The kids fighting up the lane

Shop lifting, just drifting

Like The Switchblade And The Cross

But if there's trouble she's got the moves

She's taking an elementary class in Kung Fu



* I left my washing in the launderette

You can put some money on it, you can place a little bet

That when I see my washing

The black will be grey and the white will be grey

But the blues are still blue



I'm crying out for my mum

If the malady don't go away we're in a little trouble

With the boss of the company

I'm a singer, a swinger I'm a layabout but laying on

The dock in the lazy sun

Will never quite relegate me to a bum



[Repeat *]



Baby, I love your face (baby I love your face)

I've been creeping round this town because

Well, creeping's just my way oh oh)

But with a little wink I'll be there (little wink I'll be there)

I'll be excited for a week, but then excitement starts to fade

I know your young, but you're out of touch

You're French, your vocabulary's not quite formed



I left my homework in the launderette

I got a letter from my mamma which my stupid dog has ate

I hid behind the fence

Here comes the deputy head with the bark of a bulldog

He's not making much sense



[Repeat * , *]