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I’m rather happy for myself. School days, so they tell us Are the most sublime of our lives We’ll have the time of our lives It’s the absolute prime of our lives Yes, there are school days That are golden In the olden days, it might have been true But in the olden days they liked torture And slavery too What are you going to do? School days, so we gather Are the sweetest days that we’ll know And if that really is so Well, it comes as a bit of a blow I mean If school days are the best of our lives Imagine the rest of our lives School days, school days Never let me go Come on. School days When I think of them Are sublime And you’re sick of them You can take your pick of them School days Work for scholarship What a time Lovable Mr. Chips Talk about dictatorships School days, they’re the best Oh, it’s plain they are It’s plain they are Cruel and inhumane they are School days Slightly insane they are That’s the test It’s just plain they are Have you missed them? I’ll miss sunny high school days Sunny high Tap brass Sunny high School days Holidays School days, school days Never let me School days, school days School days, school days Never ever let me go Oh, you were marvellous. Don’t worry. I would like to congratulate game game on your behalf, all those concerned game game in this year’s Founder’s Night concert, especially Mrs. Chipping. And congratulations also to her sprightly and dashing chorus. I’m only sad that it will be my last as headmaster. And now, before I take my leave, I must give you the news game game for which, I have no doubt, many of you are eagerly waiting game game and which the governors have asked me to convey to you tonight. The name of the man whom, after prolonged deliberations game game they have chosen to succeed me as headmaster of Brookfield. Their choice has fallen on Mr. William Stanley Baxter, M.A.. I’m so very sorry. How very kind of you. Thank you very much. You have my most sincere congratulations. My dear Chipping. how very good of you. Excuse me, my dear. Of course.