There's a bear inside your stomach, a cub's been kicking from within
He's loud, though with vocal cords, we'll put an end to him
We'll make all the right appointments no one ever has to know,
And then tomorrow I'll turn twenty-one, we'll script another show
We'll play charades up in the Chelsea, drink champagne, although you shouldn't be
We'll be blind and dumb until we fall asleep
None of our friends will come, they dodge our calls and they have for quite awhile now
It's not a shock, you don't seem to mind, and I just can't see how

We're too old
We're not old at all
Just too old
We're not old at all

There's a bear inside your stomach, a cub's been kicking you for weeks
And if this isn't all a dream, well than we'll cut him from beneath
Well we're not scared of making caves, or finding food for him to eat
We're terrified of one another, terrified of what that means
But we'll make only quick decisions, and you'll just keep in the waiting room,
And all the while I'll know were fucked, and not getting un-fucked soon
When we get home we're bigger strangers than we've ever been before
You sit in front of snowy television, suitcase on the floor

We're too old
We're not old at all
Just too old
We're not old at all