On the arm of a giant
flicking lint from his sleeve
I discern comprehension
but that won't make me believe
that you've ever been this high above me.
I aim for his lips
but he turns his giant head
I thought it was obvious
I thought that instead
you've never been this close to home.

He shouts, shouts, shouts
I can't hear a thing he's said
He shouts over everything
I can't leave him here like this
with his shirts all in wrinkles
and his home all a mess
I guess I'll have to stay another weekend.