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

Countin' friends till 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 kid's full-grown

And my, I've grown

So bury me deep