Down this wild street walks, walks a child with no trace
Of ever being as young as her sister is.
A local neighbourhood crush, the boys would hide out and watch
Her hanging washing on the line, all the time.
More like a woman, she talks like one.
She was the first girl, she was the first girl, to turn the boys on.
Boys, boys, wrapped around her finger, so young.
Making love was only dreaming, this girl, she's got another story.
When they are gone she blows them kisses on the wind.
At the corner shop, halfway down the block,
All the radios pumping to the way she walks,
Past the flyboys art, where her name's engraved.
Sweet Liberty is what it says.
More like a woman, she dress like one.
She was the first girl, she was the first girl, to turn the boys on.
Boys, boys, wrapped around her finger, so young.
Making love was only dreaming, this girl, she's got another story.
When they are gone she blows them kisses on the wind.
The price of puberty's got a way of showing, it doesn't come in easy stages.
Her mother's face in the pot, she won't ever leave it.
She needs a bell to ring the changes.
More like a woman she walks like one.
She was the first girl, she was the first girl, to turn the boys on.
Boys, boys, wrapped around her finger, so young.
Making love was only dreaming, this girl, she's got another story.
When they are gone she blows them kisses on the wind.
Boys, boys, wrapped around her finger, so young.
Making love was only dreaming, this girl, she's got another story.
When they are gone she blows them kisses on the wind.
Boys, boys, wrapped around her finger, so young.
Making love was only dreaming, this girl, she's got another story.
When they are gone she blows them kisses on the wind.
Boys, boys, wrapped around her finger, so young.
Making love was only dreaming, this girl, she's got another story.
When they are gone she blows them kisses on the wind.
