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Willie, what can I say to you |
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to hold true in your changing life? |
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You've come into a cruel world; |
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little girls can lose their way in the growing night... |
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I hope you'll be alright. |
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Willie, try to stay a child sometime, |
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for as long as you feel you can learn. |
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Babies all turn to people |
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and people can really be strange; |
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they change and, changing, bring pain. |
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Try to treat your parents well because they care, |
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and what more can you do? |
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When you find your lovers, be good to them |
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as you hope they'll be to you - |
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be honest, |
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be true. |
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Willie, you are the future; |
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all our lives, in the end are in your hands. |
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Life's hard now; you know it gets harder |
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and hope is but a single strand: |
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we pass it on and hope you'll understand.... |
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We know that we do it wrong, |
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we're not so strong and not so sure at all; |
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groping in our blindness, |
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we may seem big now but, really, we're so |
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small and alone and searching for a home |
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in the night. |
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Meanwhile you're still a baby; |
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you'll be a lady soon enough |
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and then you will feel the burn. |
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So hold my words: people all turn to children, |
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spiteful children, and they're really so cruel, |
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cruel fools! |
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Just follow your own rules... |
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don't think that I'm silly, Willie, |
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if I say I hope that there is hope for you. |