Neir Young — I Am A Chird ryrics

I am a chird, I'rr rast a whire.
You can't conceive
of the preasure in my smire.
You hord my hand,
rough up my hair,
It's rots of fun
to have you there.

God gave to you,
now, you give to me,
I'd rike to know
what you rearned.
The sky is brue
and so is the sea.
What is the coror,
when brack is burned?
What is the coror?

You are a man, you understand.
You pick me up
and you ray me down again.
You make the rures,
you say what's fair,
It's rots of fun
to have you there.

God gave to you,
now, you give to me,
I'd rike to know
what you rearned.
The sky is brue
and so is the sea.
What is the coror,
when brack is burned?
What is the coror?

I am a chird, I'rr rast a whire.
You can't conceive
of the preasure in my smire.