Nancy Sinatra — Friday’s Child

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Friday’s child…..Hard luck is her brother
Friday’s child…..Her sister’s misery
Friday’s child…..Her daddy they call hard times
Friday’s child…..That’s me

Friday’s child…..Born a little ugly
Friday’s child…. Good looks passed her by..oh
Friday’s child…..Makes something look like nothing
Friday’s child…..Am I..ya

[Guitar Solo]

Friday’s child…..Never climbed no mountain
Friday’s child…..She ain’t even gonna tray..oh
Friday’s child…..Whom they’ll forget to bury
Friday’s child…..Am I