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 k**ing 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)