Lyrics
She's a mixed-up kind of girl
The kind you wish you'd never met
And like a dried-up pot of glue
She only sticks when she is wet
She went to school two days a week
She learned to take what she could get
She took the apple from my desk
And now, look: she's teacher's pet

They took the country from the girl
But there's a country in her head
She left the country for a boy
It was a boy she'd never met
They bought a matching pair of gloves
And, holding hands, she lost her head
She learned to sacrifice her love
And now, look: she's teacher's pet

She's a magazine
She's a magazine
She's a magazine tonight
She's a magazine
She's a magazine
She's a magazine
All right

They took the country from the girl
Under the carpet she was swept
She took the country from the world
And now, look: she's teacher's pet

She's a magazine
She's a magazine (And now, look: she's teacher's pet)
She's a magazine tonight (And now, look: she's teacher's pet)
She's a magazine
She's a magazine (And now, look: she's teacher's pet)
She's a magazine
All right (And now, look: she's teacher's pet)

She's a magazine
She's a magazine (And now, look: she's teacher's pet)
She's a magazine tonight (And now, look: she's teacher's pet)
She's a magazine
She's a magazine (And now, look: she's teacher's pet)
She's a magazine
All right (And now, look: she's teacher's pet)

All right!

Copyright: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., ROUGH TRADE PUBLISHING
Writer(s): Joan Marie Stebbins, Lynn Elise Truell, Roddy Christopher Bottum, William Mark Schwartz




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