Toothpaste is foaming in your little mouth,
and the laughter sticks like toothpaste to the edge of our lips, just on the verge of dribbling.
It's a tooth-brushing party.
You'll be sleeping soon, little child,
but I don't want you ever to wash that laughter off your face.
and the laughter sticks like toothpaste to the edge of our lips, just on the verge of dribbling.
It's a tooth-brushing party.
You'll be sleeping soon, little child,
but I don't want you ever to wash that laughter off your face.
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