I long to be far from the madding crowd
And I yearn to be free of this social go-round
And I'm goin' from the names that,
when dropped, attract a crowd
Here I'm guilty
For swearing, backbiting
and drinking, and fighting... and me
Oh, to be free . . .
Now, here's my young daughter
My own pride and joy
A prima ballerina
To dance for her boy
Light, her feet skip the ground
While her head flies the sky
And I love her . . .
Oh, the story, the glory
The romance, the love dance
The tragedy . . .
Forever be mine...