Donna Grayson
Poetry and Lyrics

1973 to 1974
Freshman Year - High School



Only A Freshman

Here he comes
Stompin down the hall
O, God, do I feel small
Now the Senior is looking at me
I wish a Sophmore is what I could be
But, until then, I'll just be as small
as a flea

I'm only a freshman, only a frosh
Nothing important
Brain of goulosh
Only a frosh, only a freshamn
I'll run if I can

Now he's smilin' at me
Gona tease me
The Juniors don't pay no attention
to me
So I guess I am as small
as a flea

When I looked at him
he made my brain swim
He's cute, he's great
guess I was born a few years late

Everythings coming a little to fast
But I hope it will all last
A frosh is so hard to be
Being as small
as a flea

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