Tickled Pink

Little children play Oh and then they grow up, throw up looking at the world that we've made Soon be oh so still Because you may find the killing time this time of year Can't anybody see this ain't the way it is supposed to be Ohh The fear, the mirror, the old *heather trees* And me Feelin pretty small Oh I'm a mole in my own hole My bellys yellow underneath Oh and im pissed at the way you *took me* Everyday that ive been told This isnt what my two hands hold Ohh The fear, the mirror, the old *heather* of dreams Is all I need Hey there mr.tattle tale Youve got a lot of nerve To be going round and selling me Out the *bed* cigarettes Oh and im *home* relaxin Crossin all my t's Oh but I know better Before im pretty please You won't see me shudder Too busy shivering Oh yeah Shivering Shivering Shiverin(repeatedly)