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