Who wants to grow up, who wants responsibility
Who wants to show up and work until you're ninety-three, oh no not me
Now everybody says [bad word] wild
Your teacher's calling you a problem child

You're just a kid now but soon you'll be a king of hearts
That girl next door might turn into a work of art
Some people say we'll put the boy on trial
He's guilty 'cause he's just a juvenile

You make us crazy, you make us smile
Someday you'll grow up boy and you'll change your style
First you'll be married with kids after a while
And one of them might want to be a problem child