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Six years old and you can't sit still
Scraping your knees up rolling down the hill
And you run up to your mom with your big, brown, eyes
With a smile on your face and excitement in your eyes
And you proudly present another mud-pie
12 years old and the girls are mean
But your mama says, "Baby, you're perfect to me"
And you're trying and you're trying to listen and believe her
But the demons stare you down when you're looking in the mirror
So she hugs you tight and holds you while you cry
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You're 16 now so you know it all
Never will admit when you're at fault
And your mama says being naïve is not a crime
But you wanna grow up so you roll your eyes
But she's still there when you realize she's right
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