Counting time while mom and dad are gone,
1-2-3-4
Stuff some dirty towels tight underneath the closet door.
Trips back home leave time alone so rare,
Oh-oh-oh.
Get unwound but don’t get found in there.
Sister’s footsteps creeping up the hall,
1-2-3-4
Guess I lied when I promised I didn’t need this anymore.
She gently knocks as I unblock the way,
Oh-oh-oh.
She shrugs and swears and says she’d care to stay.
She needs something to feel alright,
It’s such a chore.
Like I don’t know.
When I’m back here, it’s every night,
Just like before.
Like fifteen years ago.
Family dinner, everyone sit down,
1-2-3-4.
Betcha thought that you’d be done by the age of thirty-four.
Both okay, too far away to hurt,
Oh-oh-oh,
Adult siblings; neither eating dessert.
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