Ribbons and bows and tickle toes
That’s what a young daughter means
A ride on a swing, a flower she brings
A daisy, a clover, a rose
And the years how they fly
And we ask ourselves why
This daughter is so un-aligned
She’s happy, she’s sad
She’s good and she’s bad
At times we think she’s lost her mind
Then the teen years appear
Its’ loud music we hear, a shout,
“Did anyone call?”
Lets go to the movies, do something groovy
Have a party or go to the mall
So ah, now she’s grown
Her time is her own
She’s left in the physical way
But she’s not really gone
Cause’ when she comes home
We hear:  “Gotta do laundry, ok?”