| Constantly amazed by the blades of the fan on the ceiling
|
| The clever little glances she gives me can’t help but be appealing
|
| She loves to ride into town with the top down
|
| Feel that warm breeze on her gentle skin
|
| She is my next of kin
|
| I see a little more of me everyday
|
| I catch a little more moustache turning gray
|
| Your mother is the only other woman for me
|
| Little Miss Magic, what you gonna be?
|
| Sometimes I catch her dreamin' and wonder where that little mind meanders
|
| Is she strollin' along the shore or cruisin' o’er the broad Savannah
|
| I know someday she’ll learn to make up her own rhymes
|
| Someday she’s gonna learn how to fly
|
| Oh that I won’t deny
|
| I catch a little more dialogue comin' my way
|
| I see those big brown eyes just start to lookin' astray
|
| Your mother’s still the only other woman for me
|
| Little Miss Magic, what you gonna be?
|
| Yes she loves to ride into town with the top down
|
| Feel that warm breeze on her gentle skin
|
| She is my next of kin
|
| Constantly amazed by the blades of the fan on the ceiling
|
| Those clever little looks she gives just can’t help but be appealing
|
| I know someday she’ll learn to make up her own rhymes
|
| One day she’s gonna learn how to fly
|
| That I won’t deny
|
| I see a little more of me everyday
|
| I feel a little more moustache turning gray
|
| Your mother’s still the only other woman for me
|
| Little Miss Magic, what you gonna be?
|
| Little Miss Magic, what you gonna be?
|
| Little Miss Magic, just can’t wait to see
|
| It’s raining, It’s pouring
|
| Your old man is snoring |