There's a Little Girl Inside of Every Woman

There’s a little girl inside of every woman, you can find her if you try: It’s not in her figure, and it’s not in her hair…it’s right there in her eye. She plays with the boys, but not in a tree fort—she’s out on that hardwood floor— That girlish giggle—but the way she dances, she ain’t a tom-boy no more. Cinderella fell for a truck-driving fella, but he left on a rainy night. The morning comes and that damned fairy godmother ain’t anywhere in sight. Instead of a doll, she’s got a real baby—he cries and he coos and he wets. Instead of a tea-party, it’s called life, and love’s late-night regrets. There’s a little girl inside of every woman, you can find her if you try: It’s not in her file at the welfare office…it’s right there in her eye. She locates employment in a fried-chicken palace, and she’s working for the minimum wage. She keeps her eyes open for the next Prince Charming, but she never volunteers her age. There’s a little girl inside of every woman, you can find her if you try: It’s not in the date on her birth certificate…it’s right there in her eye.