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Lyrics: Tickled Pink

Recorded at: Saint Louis (03/16/1994)

Little children play
And then they grow up, throw up
Looking at the world that we made

Studio so still
Because you may find this killing kind
This time of year

Can anybody see
This ain't the way it's supposed to be
The fear, the mirror, the old peddler of trees
And me

Feeling really small
Oh i'm a mole in my own hole
My belly's yellow underneath
Oh when im pissed and waiting to be ...

Everyday what i've been told
This isn't what my two hands hold
The fear, the mirror, the old peddler of trees
Is all I need

Hey there Mr Taddle Tale
You've got a lot of nerve to be
Going around and selling me

Alphabet cigarettes
Oh when i'm all relaxing
Crossing all my T's

Oh but I know better
Before i'm pretty pleased
You wont see me shudder
To busy shivering, oh yeah

Shivering, shivering, shivering...

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