Sugar Wolf

Less of a singer, you are more, more of a prostitute
 With aspirations for a life of sex and drug abuse
 When did the music turn into a beauty pageant?
 Lately my sense of pride has been chronically absent
 Domesticate, so much for combat
 My worst habits are mounting a comeback
 Dollars and pence, cubic or metric
 You can sit down but the chairs are electric
 Lay in the street, embrace the gutter
 Easier than working for something better
 Pull on my boots, run through the back door
 Should have been more careful, what I wished for
 Less of an artist, you are more, more of a xerox machine
 You sit tracing the pages of juxtapose magazine
 When did the music turn into a beauty pageant?
 I've become a participant in something I once stood against
 Domesticate, so much for combat
 My worst habits are mounting a comeback
 Dollars and pence, cubic or metric
 You can sit down but the chairs are electric
 Lay in the street, embrace the gutter
 Easier than working for something better
 Pull on my boots, run through the back door
 Should have been more careful, what I wished for
 Should have never given birth to this monster
 Should have never given birth to this monster
 From all this shame
 I'd like to hide my head in the ground
 Domesticate, so much for combat
 My worst habits are mounting a comeback
 Dollars and pence, cubic or metric
 You can sit down but the chairs are electric
 Lay in the street, embrace the gutter
 Easier than working for something better
 Pull on my boots, run through the back door
 Should have been more careful, what I wished for