Rachel was a girl I used to love when I was young.
Shoulda heard the love songs that we sung.
Shoulda heard the way we laughed, walkin` `long the stream,
barefoot through the meadow by the lazy San Joaquin.
Rachel was a melody that I first learned to sing,
and a sorceress just barely in her teens.
Skinny-dipping sight to see with freckles everywhere.
Queen in faded hand-me-downs, wildflowers in her hair.
She had a way of saying this was never gonna end,
saying good night like a lover and good morning like a friend.
Rachel was a watermelon, ripe and freshly stole.
First girl I ever loved, first lie that I told.
Rachel laughed and Rachel sang and Rachel held my hand.
Rachel watched me grow into a man.
Rachel sat and listened to me when I told a lie.
Rschel waved me out of sight when I said goodbye.
The San Joaquin still rolls along where me and Rachel strolled.
But the meadows turned to parking lots and me and Rachel`s old
Rachel`s just a memory that I still like to hold.
First girl I ever loved, first lie that I told.
First girl I ever loved, first lie that I told.