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