| 7 AM, the usual morning lineup
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| Start on the chores and sweep 'til the floor’s all clean
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| Polish and wax, do laundry and mop and shine up
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| Sweep again and by then it’s like 7:15
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| And so I’ll read a book, or maybe two or three
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| I’ll add a few new paintings to my gallery
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| I’ll play guitar and knit and cook and basically
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| Just wonder, when will my life begin?
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| Then after lunch, it’s puzzles and darts and baking
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| Papier-mâché, a bit of ballet and chess
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| Pottery and ventriloquy, candle making
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| Then I’ll stretch, maybe sketch
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| Take a climb, sew a dress
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| And I’ll reread the books if I have time to spare
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| I’ll paint the walls some mor, I’m sure there’s room somwhere
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| And then I’ll brush and brush and brush and brush my hair
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| Stuck in the same place I’ve always been
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| And I’ll keep wonderin' and wonderin'
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| And wonderin' and wonderin'
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| When will my life begin?
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| Tomorrow night, lights will appear
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| Just like they do on my birthday each year
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| What is it like out there where they glow?
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| Now that I’m older, Mother might just let me go |