You wait, little girl, on an empty stage, for fate to turn the light on. Your life, little girl, is an empty page that men will want to write on. To write on. You are sixteen, going on seventeen, baby, it's time to think. Better beware, be canny and careful, baby, you're on the brink. You are sixteen, going on seventeen, fellows will fall in line. Eager young lads and crewways and cabs will offer you food and wine. Totally unprepared are you to face a world of men. Timid and shy and scared are you of things beyond your kin. You need someone older and wiser telling you what to do. I am seventeen, going on eighteen, I'll take care of you. I am sixteen, going on seventeen, I know that I'm naive. Those I meet may tell me I'm sweet, and willingly I believe. I am sixteen, going on seventeen, innocent as a rose. Bachelor dandies, drinkers of brandies, what do I know of those? Totally unprepared am I to face a world of men. Timid and shy and scared am I of things beyond my kin. I need someone older and wiser telling me what to do. You are seventeen, going on eighteen, I'll depend on you. I am seventeen, going on eighteen, I know that I'm naive. I am seventeen, going on eighteen, I know that I'm naive. I am seventeen, going on eighteen, I know that I'm naive.