Coming Down

The chefs are in the alleyway throwing down

They're high on PCP when I'm around

They don't recall a thing or their favourite meal

Til they are coming down

You smack me in the eyes and take my sight

You cut my world in half, baby you're my knife

I bag a lazy spine I can take my life

When I am coming down

When I am coming down

When I am coming down

You amputate my hands and they grow back

As phantoms to replace the world I had

I'm too lazy to invent a brand new myth

When I am coming down

The scenery of saints in stained-glass walls

You get a little badge and you stand tall

You're knee-deep in the shit of suburban sprawl

And you are coming down

Oh you are coming down

Oh you are coming down

So suck the monophonic noise and golden hits

They write them in two seconds, it's a piece of piss

I let a little laugh slip from my lips

When I am coming down

Yeah I am coming down

Oh I am coming down

You've got a soft spot for hard stuff

You've got a soft spot for hard stuff

You've got a soft spot for hard stuff

And you are coming down

Yeah you are coming down

Oh you are coming down