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.