Em 
Off she trots to the psychiatric hospit...
                                                   Am
All she's got is the memory of a girl that used to laugh a lot 
                                           Em
Now she's very angry 'cause they say she's lost the plot 
                                       D         C
And she's laughing in the mirror at her paper dress 
                                           B7
'cause she has a troubled mind, a troubled mind 



Em 
Rosie Black, she walked up in here wired up on crack 
                                Am
It's for the kids who have low self esteem 
                            Em
They've got no concept of reality 
                           D      C
Living their lives inside a fantasy 
                                       B7
Cuz they have troubled minds, troubled minds 



Am                                     G       D
  Wipe the white golden dust into these broken hands 
Am                                  G     D
  Must depend on a friend that will understand 
Am           Em                       G  D
  Like the glitter making love to the gleam 
Am       Em                   G               D
  Just remember things aren't always what they seem 



Em
Peter Pan could not admit he had become a man 
                             Am
He smashed the mirror into a million bits 
                          Em
Now all he seems to do is stare and sit 
                       D                       Am
Painting pictures of a life that he'll never find 
                                   B7
Inside his troubled mind, troubled minds 


Em          
There's a sweet little guy called Mars 
                                                           Am            
Each night he cries, this ain't the place I'm meant to be 

He hides his dreams deep within a wooden box 
   Em                                            
He hides his secrets deep within his woolen socks 
D                       Am
  Life will pass him by 
                                   B7
Inside his troubled mind, troubled minds 




Am                                     G       D
  Wipe the white golden dust into these broken hands 
Am                                  G     D
  Must depend on a friend that will understand 
Am           Em                       G  D
  Like the glitter making love to the gleam 
Am       Em                   G               D
  Just remember things aren't always what they seem 



Am                                   G           D
  We can kill for the dust we need to fill these hands 
Am                                  G     D
  Can't depend on a friend that will understand 
Am           Em                          G   D
  Hate the glitter, we have murdered the dream 
Am       Em                G                D
  Just remember things are always what they seem


D     Em     D     Em
Oooooohh     Oooooohh