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 There's 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 this shit of suburban sprawl When you are coming 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 love 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 You've got a soft-spot for hard stuff And you are coming down Yeah you are coming down Oh you are coming down