[GASTON]
She's a babe
Just a babe
Still cavorting in her crib
Eating breakfast with a bib
With her baby teeth and all her baby curls
She's a tot
Just a tot
Good for bouncing on your knee
I am positive that she
Doesn't even know that boys aren't girls
She's a snip
Just a snip
Making dreadful baby noise
Having fun with all her toys
Just a chickadee who needs a mother hen
She's a cub, a papoose
You could never turn her loose
She's too infantile to take her from her pen
Of course, that weekend in Trouville
In spite of all her youthful zeal
She was exceedingly polite
And, on the whole, a sheer delight
And if it wasn't joy galore
At least not once was she a bore
That I recall
No, not at all
Ah, she's a child
A silly child
Adolescent to her toes
And good heaven, how it shows
Sticky thumbs are all the fingers she has got
She's a child
A clumsy child
She's as swollen as a grape
And she doesn't have a shape
Where her figure ought to be, it is not
Just a child
A growing child
But so backward for her years
If a boy her age appears
I am certain he will never call again
She's a scamp and a brat
Doesn't know where she is at
Unequipped and undesirable to men
Of course, I must, in truth, confess
That in that brand-new little dress
She looked surprisingly mature
And had a definite allure
It was a shock, in fact, to me
A most amazing shock to see
The way it clung
On one so young
She's a girl
A little girl
Getting older, it is true
Which is what they always do
Till that unexpected hour
When they blossom like a flower
[GASTON, spoken]
Oh, no
Oh, no
That, that