Some girls born to luxury
Some inherit monoton.
Some quite early become wives
A few stay single all of their lives.
Some girls have a pretty face
Some got that social grace.
Some dress up in the latest styles
Wearing their boots made out of crocodiles
Pick me up and take me away
Recite me rosaries
Put my life in a wooden box
And sail me out to sea.
Talkin 'bout Rachel! Oo-whoa-oh, Rachel.
Rachel got no fancy clothes
But she turns heads wherever she goes
Oh-whoa, you can hear 'em singin'.
[solo]
Lord, she makes their poor heart ring,
If you listen you will hear them sing
They'll be singing.
You can hear them singing
Rachel! Rachel
Talkin bout some girls born to luxury,
Some inherit monotony
Some all dressed up, all dressed up, in the latest style
She don't need it.
Rachel!
Rachel!
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