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