When I was young and pretty in pink,
I never knew how my life would sink.
In despair I cried to the Lord,
tried to throw myself on his mighty sword.
So who looks after little girls?
Who puts their hair in pretty curls?
Not always Moms I'll have you know
Some Moms are just for show.
The things some do are evil
so you jump the hurdle,
it makes your blood curdle.
I loved to play
I loved to sing
I loved to prance
Around the house I used to dance.
I loved my Dad and
he me
But my life was soiled by She,
She who must be obeyed.
No rules in her evil games,
In beating me, She was paid.
So who looks after little girls?
who puts their hair in pretty curls?
Not always Moms I'll have you know
Some Moms are just for show.
The things some do are evil,
so you jump that hurdle,
makes your blood curdle
makes your blood curdle.
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