Be Three Years Old

When I heard you, I could have sworn
That God was panting down
When I heard you, I could have sworn 
That God was panting down at the bottom of the stairs
He said, "There's something that I need to tell you,
Something I need to tell you now that I've 
Found you in this gift shop garbage can.
I never thought you'd be here this long."

We'd hop into the giraffe's spilled milk in our living room
And from a little cavern formed a merry yellow tavern
Watch the weekends collapse

While all along we could have just simmered in the sauce pan
So that we could push the skin at our words
Yes, we'd pull at them like some stupid thing

The last I heard, the last I heard around the corner
The last I heard, the last I heard, I was yelling
Be three years old, I dare you! 
Let's call out this faulted pretty garment for what it is
Shouted all the names that we know
And hope that one of them lands correctly
On and on

When I heard you, I could have sworn
That God was panting down
When I heard you, I could have sworn 
That God was panting down at the bottom of the stairs
He said, "There's something that I need to tell you,
Something I need to tell you now that I've 
Found out if I ever really cared.
I never should have been here this long. I never should have."

All the kisses on the bleating horses
Biggest rooms in the smallest houses
And on and on, and on and on