I have seen the art of my stupid counterpart, the proportion's wrong Every line, I'm sure, the erase marks, like a sore thumb, swelling and cumbersome Still, the prints get made, though I really want to say that I've got her beat I never speak When our playdate ends, do you call your other friends, or do you go home? Do you lock your door, do you lay down on your carpet counting friends 'til you get to one? Once you've sat with kids, it's so hard to leave the table for the kids full-grown And my, I've grown So bury me deep They're not even full grown They're not even full Once you've sat with kids, it's so hard to leave the table for the kids full-grown And my, I've grown So bury me deep