I was born with blond curls round cheeks and a fairy nose
I was queen of attention
And a genius for inventions
Messy child with messy hair to grow up free like the air
I never got used to closing the doors
And I'd never pick up the scissors of the floor
Now my hair is as dark as the coal my father used to dig out
I thought I'd fly away
But I fell in a hole
Life ain't all choices I found out
And I remember her
Golden curls in a mess
Playin' with a rubber hammer
I think there is somethin' left
There is somethin' left
I was born in the country
Surrounded by the sky and the animals
I moved from big towns to bigger cities
Trapped with sad faces and closing walls
And I remember her
Golden curls in a mess
Playing with a rubber hammer
I think there is somethin' left
There is somethin' left
Yeah I remember her, golden curls in a mess
Playing with a rubber hammer
I think there is somethin' left
There is somethin' left
I never got used to closing the doors
And I never pick up the scissors of the floor