Gone Girl

She is deliciously tall
 Sort of a long girl
 She is delightfully small
 Sort of a song girl
 She freely admits to the world
 That she was a wrong girl
 That's nothing compared to the fact
 That she is a gone girl
 Gone like a knock on the door
 Gone with yesterday and before
 Gone with the wind forevermore
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 She never lay claim to the fact
 That she was a strong girl
 So why should I loudly proclaim
 That she was a wrong girl?
 I'd rather think of her name
 As some sort of song girl
 And think poetical things
 To think of my gone girl
 Gone like a knock on the door
 Gone with yesterday and before
 Gone with the wind forevermore
 La-la-la-la-la-la-la
 La-la-la-la-la
 La-la-la-la-la-la-la
 La-la-la-la-la
 La-la-la-la-la-la-la la
 La-la-la-la-la-la-la la
 La-la-la-la-la-la-la la
 La-la-la-la-la-la-la la
 La-la-la-la-la-la-la
 La-la-la-la-la
 La-la-la-la-la-la-la
 La-la-la-la-la