Nancy Sinatra Lyrics
Friday's Child

Friday's child.....Hard luck is her brother
Friday's child.....Her sister's misery
Friday's child.....Her daddy they call hard times
Friday's child.....That's me

Friday's child.....Born a little ugly
Friday's child.... Good looks passed her by..oh
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Friday's child.....Makes something look like nothing
Friday's child.....Am I..ya

Guitar Solo

Friday's child.....Never climbed no mountain
Friday's child.....She ain't even gonna tray..oh
Friday's child.....Whom they'll forget to bury
Friday's child.....Am I