A very very very fine house

Father wears his Sunday best
Mother's tired, she needs a rest
The kids are playing up downstairs
Sister's sighing in her sleep (ah)

Brother's got a date to keep, he can't hang around

Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our
Our house, it has a crowd

There's always something happening
And it's usually quite loud
Our mum she's so house-proud
Nothing ever slows her down and a mess is not allowed

Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our

 (something tells you that you've got to move away from it)

Father gets up late for work
Mother has to iron his shirt
Then she sends the kids to school
Sees them off with a small kiss (ah)
She's the one they're going to miss in lots of ways

Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our
I remember way back then when everything was true and when
We would have such a very good time, such a fine time
Such a happy time

And I remember how we'd play, simply waste the day away
Then we'd say nothing would come between us
Two dreamers

Father wears his Sunday best

Mother's tired, she needs a rest
The kids are playing up downstairs
Sister's sighing in her sleep
Brother's got a date to keep, he can't hang around

Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our

Our house, was our castle and our keep
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, that was where we used to sleep
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our street, our house

I'll light the fire

You place the flowers in the vase

That you bought today

Staring at the fire

For hours and hours

While I listen to you

Play your love songs

All night long for me

Only for me

Come to me now

And rest your head for just five minutes

Everything is good

Such a cosy room

The windows are illuminated

By the evening sunshine through them

Fiery gems for you

Only for you

Our house is a very, very, very fine house

With two cats in the yard

Life used to be so hard

Now everything is easy

'Cause of you

And our la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la...

Our house is a very, very, very fine house

With two cats in the yard

Life used to be so hard

Now everything is easy

'Cause of you

I'll light the fire

While you place the flowers in the vase

That you bought today

Mad about the boy

I met him at a party just a couple of years ago,

He was rather over-hearty and ridiculous

But as I'd seen him on the screen he cast a certain spell.

I'd basked in his attraction

For a couple of hours or so.

His manners were a fraction too meticulous,

If he was real or not, I couldn't tell,

But like a silly fool I fell

Mad about the boy,

I know it's stupid

To be mad about the boy.

I'm so ashamed of it

But must admit

The sleepless nights

I've had about the boy.

On the silver screen

He melts my foolish heart

In every single scene.

Although I'm well aware

That here and there

Are traces of the cad about the boy.

Lord knows I'm not a fool girl,

I really shouldn't care.

Lord knows  I'm not a schoolgirl

In the flurry of her first affair.

Will it ever cloy

This odd diversity of misery and joy

I'm feeling quite insane

And young again

And all because

I'm mad about the boy.

It seems a little silly

For a girl of my age and weight

To walk down Piccadilly in a haze of light.

It ought to take her a good deal more

To take a bad girl down.

I should've been exempt for my particular kind of fate

As taught me such contempt for every phase of love

And now I've been and spent my love torn crown

To weep about a painted clown.

Mad about the boy,

It's pretty funny

But I'm mad about the boy.

He has a gay appeal that makes me feel

There's maybe something sad about the boy.

Walking down the street

His eyes look out at me from people that I meet.

I can't believe it's true,

But when I'm blue, in some strange way

I'm glad about the boy.

I'm hardly sentimental,

Love isn't so sublime.

I have to pay my rental  and I can't afford to waste much time.

If I could employ a little magic

That would finally destroy

This dream that pains me and it shames me

But I can't because I'm mad about the boy.