Too young to go steady, 
Too young, I hear her say, 
She says we're not ready, 
But then why am I feelin' this way? 

Too young, so she tells me, 
She says, we'll have to wait, 
Why wait . . . 
'Till it may be too late? 

Can she realize she drives me wild, 
Is she made of stone? 
Must she always treat me like a child, 
Won't she ever own up, I'm grown up? 
Someday, she'll be sorry, 
Someday, just wait an' see! 
She'll wish . . . 
She'd gone steady . . . 
With me! 

(Can she realize she drives me wild, 
Is she made of stone? 
Must she always treat me like a child, 
Won't she ever own up, I'm grown up?) 
Someday, she'll be sorry, 
Someday, just wait an' see! 
She'll wish . . . 
She'd gone steady . . . 
With me! 

She'll wish . . . 
She'd gone steady . . . 
With me!