when I get old, and I grow a pair,
twenty years from now,
will you still be just the dad I have this time?
or will you be plastered on wine?
if I shoot up to almost six three
just get through the door
will you still love me, never above me
when I'm six feet four

you'll be shorter too
and if you say the words,
I will stand for you

I could be handy changing the light
ladder in the shed
reaching for the teabags with my freaky height
stand straight up, and roof hits my head
scarecrow for gardens, doing my deeds,
who could ask for more?
will you still see me? will you still feed me?
when I'm six feet four?

every summer we could rent a ladder at the isle of Wight,
and we'll get some beer
we'll look eye to eye
some children grow like weeds
you're a short fat guy

send me a chainsaw, cut off my knees,
pain is nothing here
indicate precisely where you mean to'll cut them off
justget me drunk with several beers
I could be normal, no amazon life,
mine for ever more
christ what a freak show,
a "don't have to peek show
when I'm six feet four