Tiny shoes on the hallway tiles

Cartoon shirt

Bedhead smile

You two shoutin' in the kitchen door

I roll in like I'm on tour

Got a knock‑knock line in my back pocket

Silly face

Yeah

That’s my rocket

You try to frown but it slips off quick

'Cause my serious voice sounds kinda sick

I was the little peacekeeper

Barely tall enough to reach your knees

Crack one joke and the storm got weaker

Turnin' heavy air into a breeze

Every punchline

Every goofy rumor

Yeah

I got this talent for humor

Pillow fort in the living room

Turn the war into a cartoon

You trade insults

I trade puns

Suddenly

You’re both my audience of one

You say

“Kid

How you do that thing?”

I shrug

“Guess I’m just built to zing”

You laugh so hard

You forget the fight

And I dance like I saved the night

Who knew a crooked grin

Could pull the daylight in

I didn’t fix your hearts

I just gave ‘em space to start

Still that kid inside my skin

Spinnin' hurt into a spin