October 15th, 2002

Such a pretty little baby you turned out to be.

I don't want to be seen as a pretty thing
'Cause it's the pretty things that we're always breaking...

(And now she whispers into the mirror:) I'm broken.

Oh doctor, doctor, can you fix me, can you fix me?

Oh Pretty Baby, you're so naive -- but it comes off so cute
We don't want to fix you
We love you just the way you are
The butterfly pinned to the page
The nightingale locked in the cage -- won't you sing for me?
Sing for me, uh-huh
Yeah, we love you just the way you are
Crushed 'neath fashion magazines
Trampled by circus pony dreams -- won't you kiss me?
Won't you kiss me, uh-huh