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
