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Down this wild street walks, walks a child with no trace |
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Of ever being as young as her sister is |
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A local neighborhood crush, the boys would hide out and watch |
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Her hanging washing on the line all the time |
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More like a woman she talks like one |
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She was the first girl, she was the first girl to turn the boys on |
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Boys, boys wrapped around her finger |
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So young making love was only dreaming |
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This girl, she's got another story |
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When they are gone, she blows them kisses on the wind |
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At the corner shop half way down the block |
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All the radios pumping to the way she walks |
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Past the fly boy's art, where her name's engraved |
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Sweet liberty is what it says |
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More like a woman she dress like one |
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She was the first girl, she was the first girl to turn the boys on |
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Boys, boys wrapped around her finger |
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So young making love was only dreaming |
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This girl, she's got another story |
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When they are gone, she blows them kisses on the wind |
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The price of puberty's got a way of showing |
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It doesn't come in easy stages |
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Her mother's face in the pot, won't ever leave it |
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She needs a bell to ring the changes |
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More like a woman she walk like one |
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She was the first girl, she was the first girl to turn the boys on |
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Boys, boys wrapped around her finger |
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So young making love was only dreaming |
|
This girl, she's got another story |
|
When they are gone, she blows them kisses on the wind |
|
Boys, boys wrapped around her finger |
|
So young making love was only dreaming |
|
This girl, she's got another story |
|
When they are gone, she blows them kisses on the wind |
|
Boys, boys wrapped around her finger |
|
So young making love was only dreaming |
|
This girl, she's got another story |
|
When they are gone, she blows them kisses on the wind |
|
Boys, boys wrapped around her finger |
|
So young making love was only dreaming |
|
This girl, she's got another story |
|
When they are gone, she blows them kisses on the wind |
