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
T Artists/Bands 
The Cavedogs CDs in sales 
