Oh, sunken Within The treacle tin Sickly and swell'd In this blubbing Lull I am held A thespian In the throes Of this thick black Sticky roll Preserved In the plot A calamitous clot Oh, the miasma Of this cheap Melodrama The soap For which I grope I seem to remember Yeah, I Seem to Remember Posing in a mirror without terror or a tut Giddy with the gluttony and supple in his strut By now the bough Of me backbone Will have buckled Will have stooped So I can't remove The tin from the shelf So I Lay down my empty self It were lovely Oh being happy. Oh, sunken Within The treacle tin Sickly and swell'd In this blubbing Lull I am held Oh the treacle's A-rubbin' a-dubbin' On me skin Stops the teasing getting in Oh the treacle Tin's my hen, is my glam Makes my trusty bed burn So I won't wake To no wake I seem to remember Yeah, I Seem to Remember Posing in a mirror without terror or a tut Giddy with the gluttony and supple in his strut By now the bough Of me backbone Will have buckled Will have stooped So I can't remove The tin from the shelf So I just Lay down my empty self It were lovely Oh being happy. ♪ By now the bough Of me backbone Will have buckled Will have stooped So I can't remove The tin from the shelf.