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
the fear, the mirror, the old *heather trees*
and me

feelin pretty small
oh I'm a mole in my own hole
my belly's yellow underneath
oh and I'm pissed at the way you *took me*
everyday that I've been told
this isn't what my two hands hold
the fear, the mirror, the old *heather* of dreams
is all I need

hey there Mr. Tattletale
you've got a lot of nerve
to be going round and selling me
out the *bed* cigarettes
oh and I'm *home* relaxin
crossin all my t's
Oh but I know better
before I'm pretty please
you wont see me shudder
too busy shivering
oh yeah
shivering (repeatedly)

Lyrics submitted by Mellow_Harsher

Tickled Pink song meanings
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