when they drive on by,

is it the shade of my hair,

the color of my eyes,

is it that they look at,

when they drive on by.

Do they think I am that kind of girl,

easy as pie,

or do I look kind of brainy,

and just catch their eye,

is that what they think,

when they drive on by.

What they think,

when they drive on by,

I don't know,

but sometimes I wish they would stop,

and give me a ride,

for my legs are killing me so.

CALDER WOLFE