Golden hair in the breeze,
Face so ashen, rarely seen.
Girl so young,
Yet looks so wise,
Why do the young girls often strive,
To look much older,
To be a prize.
They change their looks,
They change their style
But never take time to see what’s worth while
They want their prince
They want their charming
Until one day comes,
When freedom speaks
No more need to impress the guys
No more makeup on her eyes
Candy cigarettes through the night
No longer an accessory for disguise
Golden haired lady is in for a surprise
That boys opinions don't dictate our lives
She is young
She is free
Golden haired lady
finally see’s
That Candy Cigarettes are actually sweet