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