Dad's Little Girl
Created | Updated Jan 28, 2002
There is a world of worries that hurt my head
the music's so loud and brash; with poetry and meaning
the litte girl, with bunches in her hair, looks up at me and says
"see you next week Dad, and yes I will be careful"
as she puts her cigies in her coat and straightens her skin tight trousers.
Sometimes the person you see
is the person you want them to be.
Stop the years, rewind the clock, I just don't know how
its plain to see, she's all grown up, she wears Doc Martins now.
Tiny and smooth and warm and cuddly
pink and soft yellow, innocence, eyes open with wonder
age changes and hardens, denims and leathers, and revealing necklines
is the love still there, still there, can I share you
tomorrow you are gone, yesterday you were here, but what of today.
The world is changing, our enemies are now our friends
shall I cry for the yuppies who have lost their Porche's
can I change, should I change, am I an extinct species
where is my tomorrow, I want my yesterday back, on my terms as I remember it
"but tomorrow is for me Dad", she say's, "wish me luck, kiss me goodbye".
She will come back, the child I knew, the one that I gave life to
you can stop being a lover, a wife, a husband or a friend
but you can never stop being a daughter
when the Doc Martins are thrown away, when the jeans are replaced with dresses
I'll still be here, I'll always be here, and you will always have bunches in your hair.
