Stuck Pig

I wallow in self-deprecation
I wait my turn at the slop-trough
for divination
I've got my ways and they're sticking to me
The tears I force come with passion
and facility
My mortification is a miracle drug
We all live with an answer
that someone else found
They told me to stand when I die
to grab hold of the master's crown
I'm reminded of the boy who,
having hung up with his girlfriend,
put a bullet through his head
I look like a piggy, a doggy,
a horse and housefly
Some songs only come alive in the night
Every revolution is fated to become normality