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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
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