1, 2, Talk - Two Inch Astronaut

The shortest hope pulls at all

The hems of my dresses now

And pleads in the highest

Pitched squeals that you ever heard

Would you please let me under?

Would it be so hard now?

But I got my zip code revoked

So there was less reason to hope

That I could ever find a home

Or least a place that we could talk

Increase the drip to overdose

And later on it’ll hurt the most

Cause either way you’ll be alone

Is there a place that we could talk?