The innocence that remains inside of me
Darla, is what her name shall be
Running through the forest as if she were free
Wearing an old fashioned white dress with scrapes on her knees
The lightest shade of blonde hair that you ever did see
Dirt on her hands while her seat for supper remains empty

Darla, oh Darla, where might you be...
Chasing the butterflies and buzzing with the bees
Napping in the meadow is where you may find thee
Dreaming of Darla, she and I are dancing
Away with each other, where I wish I could be her and she wishes she were me.