There's a bear inside your stomach

A cub's been kicking from within

He's loud, though without vocal cords

We'll put an end to him

We'll make all the right appointments

No one ever has to know

And then tomorrow I'll turn twenty-one

We'll script another show

We'll play charades up in the Chelsea

Drink champagne although you shouldn't be

We'll be blind and dumb until we fall asleep

None of our friends will come

They dodge our calls

And they have for quite awhile now

It's not a shock

you don't seem to mind

And I just can't see how.

"We're too old."

"We're not old at all."

"Just too old."

"We're not old at all."

There's a bear inside your stomach

A cub's been kicking you for weeks

And if this isn't all a dream

Well then we'll cut him from beneath

Well we're not scared of making caves

Or finding food for him to eat

We're terrified of one another

Terrified of what that means

But we'll make only quick decisions

And you'll just keep me in the waiting room

And all the while I'll know we're ******

And not getting un-****** soon

When we get home we're bigger strangers

Than we've ever been before

You sit in front of snowy television

Suitcase on the floor

"We're too old."

"We're not old at all."

"Just too old."

"We're not old at all."

"Just too old."

"We're not old at all."

"Just too old."

"We're not old at all."

"Just too old."

"We're not old at all."

"Just too old."

"We're not old at all.