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)