When I was a little girl
I'd heard my mother say
Some December, you'll love a lot
But it's not love if it doesn't stay

When I was a little girl,
I thought you'd know just fine
If a boy dreamt up the word
you'd vaguely hoped to rhyme

When I have a little girl, and
am still reading up on love,
I'll kiss her once, for what I say,
And once for what she'll ask

I'll tell her, She is beautiful,
A beautiful word to start
That beautiful story of the boy
Who's about to break her heart

I'll let her know that love is all,
all the good in her, and even
all the dust she'd drink
at a sale-house bar

When I have a little girl
I'd hope she'll hear me say, that
It was love, love every time,
They smiled each other's way.