She's a rebel, this sweet little girl -
ready to take chances, give life a whirl.
Where does she get it, I'd like to know;
Independent and saucy, puts on a show.
She's only fifteen but going on twenty-one,
Don't ask where she's been or what she's done!
A tattoo on her shoulder, along with a chip,
She's moving way too fast, at quite a clip.
Schoolwork is "boring" so she lets it slide,
more fun to go with her friends for a ride.
She pictures herself in a diffent world,
putting on makeup and having hair curled.
She's a rising star, microphone in hand,
as she sings along to the latest rap band.
Her skirts are too short, her neckline too low,
but she's ready to sing out and ready to go!
Where is the child I knew and loved so?
Can this be the girl that I watched grow?
At night I look in as she sleeps in her bed
and there is the baby that I knew I had...
Could be peer pressure, could be the times;
She doesn't believe anymore in nursery rhymes.
Yet deep down, I know that she'll be okay,
because my daughter said "I love you" today.
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