Crying on my pillow, lonely in my bed,
Then I heard a voice beside me and she softly said,
“Thunder is your night light, magic is your dream.”
And then as I held her, she said, “See what I mean?”
They love their toys;
they make their noise.
They’re nothing but a bunch of
overgrown boys.
If you give ’em what they want,
they never fall in love.
Don’t give ’em nothin’
they can’t get enough:
I like to dream yes, yes, right between my sound machine
On a cloud of sound I drift in the night
Any place it goes is right
Goes far, flies near, to the stars away from here
Take what you got to give and let it shine
Take what you got to give but leave me mine
Nobody likes you the way that I could
For you, I’d dive to the bottom
Don’t you know I surely would
She can’t help it if she’s made that way.
She’s not to blame if they look her way.
She ain’t really tryin’ to cause a scene.
It just comes naturally,
No, the girl can’t help it.