Bighorn Sheep Blues - Aaron Burnett

Little girls, little girls Everywhere I turn I can see them Little girls, little girls Night and day I eat, sleep and breathe them I'm an ordinary woman with feelings I'd like a man to nibble on my ear But I'll admit no man has bit So how come I'm the mother of the year? How I hate little shoes, little socks And each little bloomer I'd have cracked years ago If it weren't for my sense of humor Some women are dripping with diamonds Some women are dripping with pearls Lucky me, lucky me Look at what I'm dripping with Little girls Little cheeks, little teeth Everything around me is little If I wring little necks Surely I would get an acquittal Some day I'll step on their freckles Some night I'll straighten their curls Send a flood, send the flu Anything that you can do to little, little, little Little, little, lit-, little Little girls Some day I'll land in the nut house With all the nuts and the squirrels There I'll stay tucked away Till the prohibition of little girls