| Willie, what can I say to you
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| To hold true in your changing life?
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| You’ve come into a cruel world;
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| Little girls can lose their way in the growing night…
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| I hope you’ll be alright
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| Willie, try to stay a child sometime
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| For as long as you feel you can learn
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| Babies all turn to people
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| And people can really be strange;
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| They change and, changing, bring pain
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| Try to treat your parents well because they care
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| And what more can you do?
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| When you find your lovers, be good to them
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| As you hope they’ll be to you —
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| Be honest
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| Be true
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| Willie, you are the future;
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| All our lives, in the end are in your hands
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| Life’s hard now; |
| you know it gets harder
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| And hope is but a single strand:
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| We pass it on and hope you’ll understand…
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| We know that we do it wrong
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| We’re not so strong and not so sure at all;
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| Groping in our blindness
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| We may seem big now but, really, we’re so
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| Small and alone and searching for a home
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| In the night
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| Meanwhile you’re still a baby;
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| You’ll be a lady soon enough
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| And then you will feel the burn
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| So hold my words: people all turn to children
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| Spiteful children, and they’re really so cruel
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| Cruel fools!
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| Just follow your own rules…
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| Don’t think that I’m silly, Willie
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| If I say I hope that there is hope for you |