Children like to dance, children like to sing
Children like to
Be my baby, be my baby, be my baby now
Be
My daddy came to see me
He came all dressed in
The silver spoon's in the mouth
Baby clothes are baby-blue
Nothing's ever
Go, leave
She's better than me
Or at least she is stronger
She
No scheme and no direction
With only one way to turn
Pack
y horoscope warns me don't talk to strangers
Talk dark and
Never had no biscuit
Never had no sweater to wear
To keep
Southern boys are warm and lovely
They speak gently of their
Weather man on the radio
threatens rain maybe snow
He just forecasts
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