(P. Weller)
So you finally got what you wanted
You've achieved your aim by making me walk in line
And when you just can't get any higher
You've used 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 whore but you're much more
You're a different kind 'cos you want their minds
And you just don't care 'cos you've got no brain
It's just a face on your pillowcase
That thrills you
And you started looking much older
And your fashion sense is second rate like your perfume
But to you in your little dream world
You're still the queen of the butterfly collectors
You carry on 'cos 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 thrill between your legs
Has worn off
And I don't care about morals
'Cos 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 'cos you want their minds
And you just don't care 'cos you've got no brains
He's just a face on your pillowcase
That thrills you
You carry on 'cos 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 thrill between your legs
Has worn off
And I don't feel any sorrow
Towards the kings and queens of the butterfly collectors

Losowe piosenki:
Love Hurts
Take Me Home, Country Roads
Gentleman's Dream
Everything's Alright (I Think It's Time)
THE GALLERY
Got You To Thank For That
Asimbonanga (Mandela)
Run Of The Mill