On our street a dirty scene
I know you feel like we can go inside
We can talk in private here
Tell me now of how things used to be
But I'm not crazy I'm just a little boy
And you're not crazy you're just a little girl
We can find an old boxcar
In the woods to make our home
We can make a broom of weeds
And brush and sweep (all the) daddies away
If we went back to being small
We could find a place and raise ourselves
You'd be ill with so much guilt
But we'd pretend that they got better now
But I'm not crazy I'm just a little boy
And you're not crazy you're just a little girl
We can find an old boxcar
In the woods to make our home
Make a bed of maple leaves
Sleep with vines on the door
On the sill what we need
Keep our milk in the stream
We can make a broom of weeds
And brush and sweep (all the) daddies away