My best friend's mother is very strict
And when I come over to play
I know she's going to send us out
On even the coldest day.
She never once gave us cookies or cake
She says that it makes such a mess
And she had a fit when my friend spilled coke
All over her second-best dress.
My friend's not allowed to wear jewelry or lace
Her mother says it's not proper,
The time we wore lipstick and powdered our face
She screamed and nobody could stop 'er.
If she were my mother I'd run away fast
I'd sail away over the water,
From China I'd send her a postcard at last -
'With love, from your runaway daughter ... !'
