Bratty Girl

Twelfth Of Never

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    Poor dolly, lying on its back
    The cold rain gently drizzles outside
    The bags are ready, lunch is packed
    "But no one's here. Where's my ride?
    I hope they've got the address right."

    Poor dolly, bored and cracked
    The windows groan with an ancient low
    Dropped like a mitten, dignity intact
    Forgotten? Maybe. Never. No!

    Look, the drizzle is turning to snow!
    Pretty Dolly...
    misty-eyed, mischief-prone,
    wound up tonight

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    Pretty dolly, wound up tight
    So much to do on a November night
    Her little shoes, bag, and dress
    None of her friends can ever guess
    When she'll fly off next

    Pretty dolly, dull and drone
    Looking out the window at a long driveway
    "I wonder if they lost their way?"

    Look, the drizzle is turning to snow!
    Pretty Dolly...
    misty-eyed, mischief-prone,
    wound up tonight

    Información de la canción

    Composición: Roy Brocksmith

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