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My mother says I'm innocent, because I've never kissed a boy,
I never expected to be fifteen and still so all alone,
She says that I should be glad, because guys treated her like a toy,
I never ever thought that I'd be the very last one.

But you know something, after thinking for quite some time,
The child-like innocence, in some ways can be a good thing,
Because once you've had that experience, you're life's on a dime,
And you can never ever go back, to the playful days of spring.

But the days of spring grow boring, when your friends have all moved on,
You no longer want to play little games and braid little daisies in your hair,
And you want so badly to catch up, even if your innocence will all be gone,
That as you watch your friends grow up, your innocence is lost without a care.

So, I know my time will come, and I've waited oh so long,
For someone to think I'm beautiful, and love me just because,
For someone to look past my quiet shell, to my colorful, inner song,
I'm ready for growing up to do to me whatever it does.