| A woman’s touch, a woman’s touch
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| The magic of Aladdin couldn’t do as much
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| She’s a wizard, she’s a champ
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| And she doesn’t need a lamp
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| A woman’s touch can weave a spell
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| The kind of hocus-pocus that she does so well
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| With the magic of a broom
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| She can mesmerize a room
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| With a whisk-whisk here and a whisk-whisk there
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| And a dustpan for the cinders
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| With a rub-rub here and a rub-rub there
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| She could polish up the winders
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| Then presto-chango, suddenly
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| The sun comes shining through
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| And what does Mr Sunshine say to you?
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| How-d-ye-do!
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| It makes you blink to stop and think
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| A woman and a whisk broom
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| Can accomplish so darn much
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| So never underestimate a woman’s touch
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| A woman’s touch can quickly fill
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| The empty flower boxes on a winder sill
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| One smile from her and zoom
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| Little buds begin to bloom
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| A touch of paint, a magic nail
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| Can turn a kitchen chair into a Chippendale
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| Even make a lamp appear
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| Like a crystal chandelier
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| With a tack-tack here and a tack-tack there
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| And a hand around a hammer
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| With a mop-mop here and a mop-mop there
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| You can give a cabin glamour
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| Then, gosh-almighty, all at once
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| The cabin that we knew
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| Becomes a shining castle built for two
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| Me and you
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| The pies and cakes a woman bakes
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| Can make a feller tell her
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| That he loves her very much
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| So never underestimate a woman’s touch |