This girl...
Counts the seconds using minutes
As far as the day is long
She's never been an artist
But still can draw a crowd

She likes pink and purple paisley
Because it goes with everything
Has a bird that speaks Pig Latin
And another one that sings

She bathes out in the moonlight
For an even nightly glow
She never steps on sidewalk cracks
Cause she loves her mother so

She shows up late to parties
So she can greet those first to leave
Takes advice from Sir Paul the knight
Knowing when to Let it be

Her bed is filled with China dolls
Not a one of them the same
She calls them all Sweet Lucy
As she knows no other name

This Girl...
Starts out in the middle
So she's closer to the end
Knowing that when she reaches it
She can start all over again

I once had a friend who when we always used to play, played dead
I used to think it was really funny, those memories stay in my head
We would run around laughing
Where we would always be catching
Each other, trying to the other
I know that there will never be another
One day, while I was waiting for him to come over
I received the news...
And I still tell myself to this day...
He's just playing dead...