Little Miss Magic

Constantly amazed by the blades of the fan on the ceiling
The clever little glances she gives me can't help but be appealing
She loves to ride into town with the top down
Feel that warm breeze on her gentle skin
She is my next of kin

Chorus:
I see a little more of me everyday
I catch a little more moustache turning gray
Your mother is the only other woman for me
Little miss magic, what you gonna be?

Sometimes I catch her dreamin' and wonder where that little mind meanders
Is she strollin' along the shore or cruisin' oer the broad savannah
I know someday she'll learn to make up her own rhymes
Someday she's gonna learn how to fly
Oh that I won't deny

Chorus:
I catch a little more dialogue comin' my way
I see those big brown eyes just start to lookin' astray
Your mother's still the only other woman for me
Little miss magic, what you gonna be?

Yes she loves to ride into town with the top down
Feel that warm breeze on her gentle skin
She is my next of kin

--J. Buffett (1980)