Oh I won't be your pretty baby, I won't eat from your hand again. And the man in the white says it's alright, He says, come on girl give up the fight
I'm talking to strangers To see what I feel, Your face is changing now And nothing seems real. These things I know Are like a baby how they grow in
: Kiss me, Kiss me, under a glow-star sky; If they're stuck on the ceiling I don't mind. It's a brittle world but it's soft inside I'll make the milky