Daddy don't like it but Mommy still wonders, Sweet Boy But you're allowed to try it and I point no fingers Sweet Boy, but I'm still wonderin' what it means, boy You hold your wrist so limply You don't have to camp around
Save all your money, go confess on Sunday, Sweet Boy And you get your copy of Honey, back on the street by Monday Sweet Boy, but tell me where does that leave me, boy Save the satin undies, don't pluck out your eyebrows Stow the mincey lisping, you don't have to camp around
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