The Butterfly Collector

So you finally got what you wanted

You've achieved your aim

By making the walking lame

And when you just can't get any higher

You use your senses

To suss out this week's climber

And the small fame that you've acquired

Has brought you into cult status

But to me, you're still a collector

There's tarts and whores

But you're much more

You're a different kind

'Cause you want their minds

And you just don't care

'Cause you've got no pride

It's just that face

On your pillowcase

That thrills you

And you've started looking much older

And your fashion sense

Is second-rate, like your perfume

But, to you, in your own little dream world

You're still the queen of the butterfly collectors

As you carry on

'Cause it's all you know

You can't light a fire

You can't cook or sew

You get from day to day

By filling your head

But you surely must know

The appeal between your legs

Has worn off?

And I don't care about morals

'Cause the world's insane

And we're all to blame, anyway

And I don't feel any sorrow

Towards the kings and queens

Of the butterfly collectors

There's tarts and whores

But you're much more

You're a different kind

'Cause you want their minds

And you just don't care

'Cause you've got no pride

It's just that face

On your pillowcase

That thrills you

As you carry on

'Cause it's all you know

You can't light a fire

You can't cook or sew

You get from day to day

By filling your head

But you surely must know

The appeal between your legs

Has worn off?

And I don't feel any sorrow

Towards the kings and queens

Of the butterfly collectors