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Separates and lingerie, seven pairs of shoes Lots of Woolworth's makeup, a pair of Black Watch trews Your out-of-tune piano, sentimental photographs A million little memories, a million little laughs The wing of the airplane has just caught on fire I say without reservation, "We ain't getting no higher" All you wanted from me, all I had to give Nothing matters you'll see, when in paradise you live The plane is diving faster, we're getting near the ground Nobody is screaming, no one makes a sound It's a girl, Mrs. Walker, it's a girl It's a girl, Mrs. Walker, it's a girl It's a girl, Mrs. Walker, it's a girl It's a girl, Mrs. Walker, it's a girl