He didn't pick me
He didn't pick me
I was too young
During his reigning poetry
I would have wore the shirt
I would have wore the skirt
Bent over sometimes just to flirt
With his long brown hair
I can cook, I can clean
Get in the bedroom, get down to obscene
When I'm your maid
Neil Young
When it was more fun
Still dancing in the sun
Still dancing in the sun
To my Neil Young
Music into soul spun.