Sky wide eyes and ‘Why won’t you help me?’

And I just want to wrap my arms around her

And whisper so she can hear me

That sixteen isn’t love

(I know you’ll get over this, because you’ll get over being you yet)

---

But then she’s young and lies are just stories

That got mixed up with realities

I never met anyone more in need of lulling,

And children can find out the truth for themselves

People grow upwards –

We push our heads further into the clouds

---

And she makes me feel old the way we are

(The way we always were)

Because I spend my life trying to make her

Safe from herself

And breathless at our arrogance.