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She turns her head with a look that’s saying This is no time for playing
Leaving her comb having finished with her hair And placing her flowers on the chair She gives all knowing glances
She turns her face and she’s having fun With guests arriving one by one She looks to see that there’s no one told Of dresses lying worn and old under her stained glass table
Bring her bits of painted glass to make her smile If you can make the feeling last you can stay a while ‘Cause that’s the lady’s style And she thinks she’s a woman
Little Girl
She goes to bed for the party’s over No one to look her over, everyone’s gone
Little Girl Little Girl
Dreaming of tomorrow night and what she’ll wear Standing in the candlelight will she compare to all the ladies there And she thinks she’s a woman |
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