There Are Worse Things I Could Do - Robyn Hurder, Lindsay Mendez, Kirsten Wyatt, Jenny Powers & Kimberly Grigsby

There are worse things I could do Than go with a boy or two Even though the neighborhood thinks I'm trashy and no good I suppose it could be true But there are worse things I could do I could flirt with all the guys Smile at them and bat my eyes Press against them when we dance Make them think they stand a chance Then refuse to see it through That's a thing I'd never do I could stay home every night Wait around for Mr. Right Take cold showers everyday And throw my life away On a dream that won't come true I could hurt someone like me Out of spite or jealousy I don't steal And I don't lie, but I can feel And I can cry A fact I'll bet you never knew But to cry in front of you That's the worst thing I could do

There are worse things I could do Than go with a boy or two Even though the neighborhood thinks I'm trashy And no good I suppose it could be true But there are worse things I could do I could flirt with all the guys Smile at them and bat my eyes Press against them when we dance Make them think they stand a chance Then refuse to see it through That's a thing I'd never do I could stay home every night Wait around for Mr. Right Take cold showers every day And throw my life away On a dream that won't come true I could hurt someone like me Out of spite or jealousy I don't steal and I don't lie But I can feel and I can cry A fact I'll bet you never knew But to cry in front of you That's the worst thing I could do

Have you ever been awaken by the crowing of a rooster While the night is still heavy on the ground And the voice of Uncle Ben seems to break the morning silence Bringing lights to windows all around Well it's time to rise and shine and start another hard work day Get the cows in and start the milking chores It's nice to think about it maybe even visit but I wonder could I live there anymore [ Steel - fiddle ] Something bout the smell of cornbread cooking on a wood stove Seems to bring a picture to my mind Of a little three room house with mama in the kitchen But she can't stop to talk ain't got the time She's a fixing dad his supper he's a working over time Tryin' to pay our bill at the grocery store It's nice to think about it maybe even visit but I wonder could I live there anymore [ Steel - fiddle ] As I think about my childhood and of my old hometown I don't really miss them like before It's nice to think about it maybe even visit but I wonder could I live there anymore

Don't believe a word of my mother Interfering pain in the can Burning up with unspoken envy I got me a bona fide man (don't change the subject!) She and Daddy don't have relations Separate rooms with double-locked doors S-E-X for her and her eunuch Stopped at the Punic Wars I'm my daddy's girl Chip off the old man's block Yes, my daddy's girl Proper and prim as Plymouth Rock Take off that lipstick Wash off that perfume How dare you wear high heels? As my daddy's girl I'm impassioned by Good, old-fashioned ideals Father will be home soon enough Talk to him, Joe Why? Why, because he's willing to cover for you? Because he loves me! Because he isn't competing Mother has a yen for the spotlight Daddy disapproves of the stage Never get your name in the papers Except for the nuptial page (now Edie, I -) Modulate your voice to a whisper Always hide your sexual side (that's enough!) As for getting drunk in that frat-house (what?) Father O'Hanlan lied! I'm my daddy's girl (what frathouse?) Virginal as a saint That's my daddy's girl (Father O'Hanlan?) Model of utter self-restraint Insinuations, false accusations Slander from Harvard boys (who?!) On a daddy's girl I ignore 'em with charm, decorum and poise Edie Before he gets married There are certain things that a guy's gotta know! I'm a good girl! A Miss Porter's girl! All American apple pie Catholic as the Pope's right eye In here, Joe My heart, Joe I'm pure Maybe not like the driven snow All the same, next to some I know Girls who smoke and read Fanny Hill Well, I was reading de Tocqueville Listen to reason Let's not be immature Honestly, Joe I thought you said that you were sure I know what I said I'm his daughter, Joe Not hers I want to believe you- Believe me! Believe Daddy! He'll make it right, I know he will Over a nice Scotch, or a Cuban cigar You'll see! Edie, I just- Please! All right All right, one whiskey In his study Tell him only what you know about me, Daddy Not what you don't I'm my daddy's girl Used to his stony glares And I know deep down He's just critical 'cause he cares "Go find a husband!" "Don't waste your life on talent you have none of" How can any man Even Joe Match the gift of a father's love?