Sarah, Charlotte, and Little Pete
Wander down the tree-lined street
Toward Listwood playground's swings
Charlotte hums and Sarah sings

Peter talks without a breath
Bores his  listeners half to death
For they don't know his special speech
"I weawwy weawwy twy to weach"

"Weach fow da staws, it's hawd as heww
To say the aw sound owa fowm an ew" +
R's and L's are not his forte
But that won't stop him from trying to say

Whatever is flitting through his mind
And my boy Pete is oh so kind
My children make me proud as hell
And every day my love will swell

Pushing swings beneath the stars
Then hanging from the monkey bars
Then up the pole and down the slide
Then home with these three by my side

Their Daddy loves them so much more
Than anything he's loved before
Except, perhaps, for their mother
I love these four more than any other