Flower Grown Wild Bryan Adams

She was the girl in the very front row
Always waitin' after the show
She was the queen of the Hollywood Hills
Knew the stars, the bars, the pimps and pills

Somebody's climbin' on a Greyhound tonight
Too much lipstick and her dress real tight
Looks like a woman but she ain't quite
No, not quite

She's somebody's baby
She's somebody's mother's child
She may look like a lady
But she's just a flower grown wild

They never knew you by your childhood name
But they were drawn to you like moths to a flame
Nobody saw the tears in your silk n' lace
Or the scarred little kid behind your face
Just remember when you hold her tight
What you're holding in your arms tonight
She's no angel, but that's alright
Yeah that's alright

She's somebody's baby
She's somebody's mother's child
She may look like a lady
But she's just a flower grown wild
(C'mon lets go, hey.)