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