Lyrics:

Hey, can I meet you at three instead of four?
dog threw up on me (no, really)
And I gotta make a detour

Seven little numbers brought us together
Two Six Five Seven Four Three One
Who’d have guessed that when some stranger texted me
He would succeed in makin’ me smile?

 [bad word]  
Seven little numbers hold the key to my heart
And though I deny it, I’ve loved them from the start
I don’t know what I’m doing here
But I know that I smile when those little numbers appear

Seven is for the number of days in a week
You hate Tuesdays, and Thursdays bore me outta my mind
On Sundays you go with Bradshaw to Central Park
But no matter what day it is, you make me smile

Six is the number of treats that I gave you
Ocean Hall, and the Brooklyn Bridge and coffee in between
I gave you Christmas spirit and asked for nothing’ in return
Because all I wanted to do was make you smile

 [bad word] 

Five is the number of years old you are
You argue five and a half, but I disagree
And while that makes me sound vaguely pedophilic
We both know your immaturity makes me smile

Four coffee cups lined up in a row
You think it’s a hug in a cup, but I’m pretty sure that’s tea
I meant it when I said there’ll always be coffee
So even when I’m not there, I can make you smile

 [bad word] 

Three is for the three little words I can’t say to you
Though sometimes I really wish I could
But these days [bad word] just knowing that they’re [bad word] 
And just thinking about them makes me smile

Two is for the pets that we own
Bradshaw and James Benroy the Third
 [bad word] about them and the things that they do
But at the end of the day, they make us smile

 [bad word] 

One is you, the person who made this all happen
Who linked their seven little numbers with my own
Goofy and sweet and funny and everything I need
You never fail to make me smile 

 [bad word] 

Hey, can I meet you at three instead of four?
dog threw up on me (no, really)
And I gotta make a detour