From a sordid hobby, to a dying art It used to calm him down Now he can't keep count Another one that's wasted - could've been your son She used to come around Now it's all but drowned out By the stale glow from the night stand "Sing for the camera" till you can't stand it Pop it open, palm to the morning Stain on the fabric of moral magic Feeling that it can't hurt Seeing that it won't work With a chaste young body that he chased away She used to come around He's better off without it (Instrumental break) Switch on the mirror, you see yourself Dangling at arm's length, like someone else You've been unmasked, hero, And you won't last the day Among the pile of empties is a brand new star So used to falling down So cradled by the sound of Throwing up while corporate idols sing for the camera She couldn't stand them Switch it off - no kick it over Would be too much effort and how you miss it Everything here is cursed - All of it reeks of her