She always signs her letters Worried Brown Eyes
The queen of every problem page at seventeen
Never a week goes by but Worried Brown Eyes
Is hanging out her heartachings in the ladies' weekly magazine
She has got a boyfriend, name of Dickie
Who would like to go too far
You know what Dickies are
And she is asking, is he honourable
Or is he just a prancing Don Juan
But worst of all, she fears
Could she love a man who picks his ears?
She always signs her letters Worried Brown Eyes
She says she's got a little mole in a place where nobody's ever seen
And she asks is it unsightly pretty Brown Eyes
Seeking advice on mole-control in the ladies' weekly magazine
Then of course, there's Dickie, desperate Dickie
Who is growing very bold
His hands are so cold
Well now's your chance oh little Brown Eyes
To be passionate and rash and indiscreet
Body and soul, go on, give the lad a treat
Show him your mole
She always signs her letters Worried Brown Eyes
Revealing every secret of her shy hygiene
She'd like a bigger bosom, Worried Brown Eyes
Thrashing out her tummy bulge in the ladies' weekly magazine
Dickie's been molesting her and pestering her again
He tries his luck
He's running amok
Every letter's full of tricky Dickie
But this week I feel there's something new
He must have made his move
Something must have happened
Her handwriting's improved
Oh spare some kind of prayer for Worried Brown Eyes
Queen of every problem page at seventeen
There's never a week goes by but Worried Brown Eyes
Is hanging out her desperations in the ladies' weekly magazine
Would she do it, could she do it, should she?
Opening up her heartachings so ill-advisedly
Brown Eyes that nobody's ever seen
With her Dickie-dido in the ladies' weekly magazine.

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