Sitting on a swing, girl,
Looking up high,
Those are the blue hills, girl,
Nudging past the sky.
Lying past bedtime, girl,
Looking at whizzing cars,
Mapping your own travels, girl,
With your wheelbarrow of stars.
Looking up high,
Those are the blue hills, girl,
Nudging past the sky.
Lying past bedtime, girl,
Looking at whizzing cars,
Mapping your own travels, girl,
With your wheelbarrow of stars.
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