Black rings round your eyes And you're spewing your lies That you know is your old routine Spilling your drink With a nod and wink As you boast about people you've been Smoking your cigarette Down to the butt And your teeth are as black as the tar You tell them at sex You're a stud in the bed As you hang for your life on the bar And you see your own peak On the top of the mountain Of bodies you trod on to get there Shit on me, shit on her Shit on you in the end And they won't even lend you the bus fare Now you're boring the pants off The tart on the dance-floor As you tell her the person you once were She just sees you as trash But she creams at the cash That you might pay just to grope her And this town is a potpourri of disease Can you smell the herpes from the scum-sucking fucks That hang around the same suckers each mid-night You were being your photo And spouting your promo Flicking back your limp whip That's as limp as your dick Irritating your greedy cross-eyed sight Oh Christ and you're greasing up now To the creepy old cow That would sell out your mother and besides Your sell-out assured You were always a whore And you've always been taken for long rides At the smell of the bride You go jelly inside As you step up the gold ladder to big time Kick them on the way up, kick you on the way down And you'll need them all again in good time Your friend is the "yes"-man Who sits by your side With his hand in your pocket all the time And he's messing your head Tries to get you in bed Well it's all masturbation of a kind
What you earn, heaven knows It goes straight up your nose And you strangle your health in the end And you're blinded by bull And you've really been full And it's driving you straight round the bend And you're told that a smile is so worth your while Its what "yes"-men call diplomacy It'll get you the goal But while losing the soul You're forgetting the quality And you heave on your drink As you're starting to think That all that shines may not be lam? But a cheap substitute That'll give you the boot You're just a stiff at a funeral party Where you slouch on the bar With the arm in the beer Wearing yesterday's mascara today And it runs when you cry about living a lie And the lie's starting to fade away Fade away