Debbie stood outside the door,
Her features pale and wan,
The worried look upon her face,
All sad and woebegone.
She knew what she was here for.
She knew what she had done.
Debbie stood outside the door,
All sorry and forlorn.

Debbie wished she'd come to school,
or stayed at home in bed.
She wished she'd never gone downtown,
With Mike and Bob instead.
"The Principal will see you now,"
The secretary said.
She wished that she was somewhere else.
She wished that she was dead.

Debbie knocked and waited,
Till a muffled voice replied,
"Come in and close the door,"
And so she coyly stepped inside.
She wished that she had told the truth.
She wished she hadn't lied.
'Cause now this stern old pedagogue,
Was going to tan her hide.

Debbie knew her time had come.
Her life lay in disaster.
Debbie cursed the fickle fate
Unlucky chance had cast her.
Her knees were weak, her mouth was dry,
Her heart could beat no faster.
She bowed her head and meekly said,
"You sent for me, Headmaster."

Debbie's hands were shaking,
As he fixed her with a stare.
"Come with me, young lady,
He said, rising from his chair.
"Bend down across the desk,
And get your bottom in the air!
The penalty for truancy,
Is six upon the bare!"

Debbie whined and whimpered,
As he lifted up her skirt.
Her legs were long and slender,
Her bottom plumply pert.
"You're a naughty girl," he told her.
His voice was cold and curt.
Then, fetching out his cane, he added,
"This is going to hurt."

Debbie thought she'd die of shame,
When he ordered, "Panties down!"
Debbie flushed bright purple,
From her toes up to her crown.
"Let this be a lesson,"
He said, rustling his gown.
He raised his cane and, taking aim,
Brought it swishing down.

Debbie stands outside the door,
Shamefaced, sore and sad.
Tears are rolling down her cheeks.
That's what happens when you're bad!
Yet it could've been much worse, you know.
She really should be glad,
Her grumpy old Headmaster,
Didn't tell her Mum and Dad.