Texty: The Monkees. Sweet Young Thing.

I know that something very strange
Is happening to my brain.
I'm either feeling very good
Or else I am insane.
The seeds of doubt you planted
Have started to grow wild
And I feel that I must yield before
The wisdom of a child

And its love you bring,
No that I cant deny,
And with your wings,
I can learn to fly,
Sweet young thing.

People try to talk to me
Their words are ugly sounds
But I resist all their attempts
To try and bring me down..
Turned on to the sunset,
Like Ive never been before.
And I listen for your footsteps
As you knock upon the door.

And its love you bring,
No that I cant deny,
And with your wings,
I can learn to fly,
Sweet young thing.

And its love you bring,
With dreams of bluer skies
And all these things,
When I seem them in your eyes
Sweet young thing
Sweet young thing