Someone to watch over me I'm a little lamb who's lost in the wood I know I could always be good To one who'll watch over me Although I may not be the man Some girls think of as handsome But to her heart I carry the key Follow my lead, oh how I need

Carry me back to old Virginny, There's where the birds warble sweet in the spring time, There's where the cotton and the corn and taters grow, There's where the darkey's heart am longed to go. There's where I labored so hard for old massa, Day after day

They'll never listen Because their minds are made up And 'course it's all okay to carry on that way Not in the same way Well oh they might wear classic Reeboks Or knackered Converse Or tracky bottoms tucked in socks But all of that's what the point is

My song will carry on And I'll spend my life penning my song, my song Good girls don't make history So I may never be what you assume (it's my song) Don't want your hooks or auto-tune (it's my song) If I'm off-key then that's alright with me (it's my

We'll spend forever unhappily married Hey hey, it's alright Everybody fusses, everybody fights With all of the baggage you and me carry Must be mistaking me with the maid we don't have Can't even wash your whiskey out your glass I gave you no loving in a

Fools on parade That you would rather be beside than in front of The secret door swings behind us She's saying nothing She's just giggling along Fools on parade cavort and carry on For waiting eyes But she's never been the kind to be hollowed by the