| [00:07.49] | So you finally got what you wanted, |
| [00:19.16] | You've achieved your aim by making the walking lame, |
| [00:27.28] | And when you just can't get any higher, |
| [00:31.58] | You use your senses to suss out this week's climber, |
| [00:40.46] | And the small fame that you've acquired, |
| [00:44.23] | Has brought you into cult status but to me you're still a collector. |
| [00:51.69] | |
| [00:53.72] | There's tarts and whores but you're much more, |
| [00:57.00] | You're a different kind 'cause you want their minds, |
| [01:01.39] | And you just don't care 'cause you've got no brains, |
| [01:05.85] | It's just a face on your pillowcase that thrills you. |
| [01:13.59] | |
| [01:16.28] | And you've started looking much older, |
| [01:26.64] | And you're fashion sense is second rate like your perfume, |
| [01:35.03] | But to you in your own little dream world, |
| [01:39.31] | You're still the queen of the butterfly collectors. |
| [01:41.60] | |
| [01:49.17] | You carry on 'cause it's all you know, |
| [01:52.86] | You can't light a fire, you can't cook or sew, |
| [01:56.66] | You get from day to day by filling your head, |
| [02:00.87] | But you surely must know the thrill between your legs has worn off. |
| [02:07.85] | |
| [02:17.88] | And I don't care about morals, |
| [02:22.05] | 'Cause the world's insane and we're all to blame anyway, |
| [02:30.27] | And I don't feel any sorrow, |
| [02:34.63] | Towards the kings and queens of the butterfly collectors. |
| [02:41.62] | |
| [02:43.71] | There's tarts and whores but you're much more, |
| [02:48.06] | You're a different kind 'cause you want their minds, |
| [02:51.75] | And you just don't care 'cause you've got no brains, |
| [02:56.27] | It's just a face on your pillowcase that thrills you. |
| [03:02.21] | |
| [03:02.77] | You carry on 'cause it's all you know, |
| [03:06.20] | You can't light a fire, you can't cook or sew, |
| [03:10.28] | You get from day to day by filling your head, |
| [03:14.44] | But you surely must know the thrill between your legs has worn off. |
| [03:19.44] | |
| [03:24.01] | And I don't feel any sorrow, |
| [03:27.32] | Towards the kings and queens of the butterfly collectors. |