| Harold:
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| No wide-eyed, eager
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| Wholesome innocent Sunday school teacher for me
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| That kinda girl spins webs no spider ever--
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| Listen, boy--
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| A girl who trades on all that purity
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| Merely wants to trade my independence for her security
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| The only affirmative she will file
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| Refers to marching down the aisle
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| No golden, glorious, gleaming pristine goddess--
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| No sir!
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| For no Diana do I play faun
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| I can tell you that right now
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| I snarl, I hiss: How can ignorance be compared to bliss?
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| I spark, I fizz for the lady who knows what time it is
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| I cheer, I rave for the virtue I’m too late to save
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| The sadder-but-wiser girl for me
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| No bright-eyed, blushing, breathless baby-doll baby
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| Not for me
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| That kinda child ties knots no sailor ever knew
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| I prefer to take a chance on a more adult romance
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| No dewy young miss
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| Who keeps resisting all the time she keeps insisting!
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| No wide-eyed, wholesome innocent female
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| No sir
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| Why, she’s the fisherman, I’m the fish you see?--PLOP!
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| I flinch, I shy, when the lass with the delicate air goes by |
| I smile, I grin, when the gal with a touch of sin walks in
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| I hope, and I pray, for a Hester to win just one more «A»
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| The sadder-but-wiser girl’s the girl for me
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| The sadder-but-wiser girl for me |