Even headmasters were children once. Mr Saint Bartholomew is busy, busy, busy. Everyone wants a piece of him; pupils, staff and parents and then there are the budgets and that school league table. Mr S B sometimes wishes he was at home in the arms of his lovely wife, falling asleep in her arms without a care in his world.
I am the boss of the school. Mister Saint Bartholomew. So proud of the job that I do. My work is never complete. With parents and budgets to meet. When sometimes I'd much rather be
Falling asleep in your arms. Listening to the beat of your heart. Feeling your breath on my face. Drifting off in your embrace
People are counting on me. I've got responsibilities. And so many people to please Three brand new classrooms to build. Four teaching posts to be filled. Counting the moments until
I'm falling asleep in your arms. Listening to the beat of your heart. Feeling your breath on my face. Drifting off in your embrace. I am the boss of the school