Out there is a world so big, and wide, and deep, and tall.
But all I see are tops, and downs, and ends 'cause I am small.

They talk about the cars, and trucks, and cycles on the road.
But all I see are clouds, and wires strung up for poles to hold.

At dinnertime they gush about the china and the silver,
When from down here it's just the linen,
if you don't count the dinner.

In malls, it's sales and discounts or displays at the store.
For me, it's hips and butts and bags and knobby-knees galore.

The drugstore is a mystery of clinky sounds and smells.
The counter has a smudge of paint-there isn't much to tell.

What gets to me is big and brown and cold and wet with goo.
A doggie's nose, I don't find cute. At two years young, woyld you.