Little Green / Wait Till You See Her / The Inch Worm Christine Ebersole

[Little Green:]
Born with a moon in cancer
Choose her a name she will answer to
Call her green for the winters, cannot fade her
Call her green for the children who made her
Little green, be a gypsy dancer

He went to California
Hearing that everything's warmer there
So you write him a letter and say, arise a blue
He sends you a poem, and she's lust to you
Little green, he's a non-conformer

Just a little green
Like the color when the spring is born
There'll be crocuses, to bring to school tomorrow
Just a little green
Like the nights when the northern lights perform
There'll be icicles, and birthday clothes
And sometimes there'll be sorrow

[Wait Till You See Her:]
Wait till' you see her, see how she looks
Wait till' you hear her laugh
Painters of paintings, writers of books
Never could tell the [?]
Wait till' you feel the warmth of her glance
Pensive and sweet and wise
All of it lovely, all of it thrilling
I'll never be willing to free, her
When you see her
You won't believe your eyes
Child with a child pretending
Weary of lies, you are sending home
So you sign all the papers, in the family name
You sang in your sorry, but you're not ashamed