Hair Frank Mills Lyrics | SongMeanings
I met a boy called Frank Mills On September twelfth right here In front of the Waverly But unfortunately I lost his address He was last seen with his friend, A drummer, he resembles George Harrison of the Beatles But he wears his hair Tied in a small bow at the back I love him but it embarrasses me To walk down the street with him He lives in Brooklyn somewhere And wears this white crash