no one's gonna get so close, no one's gonna know how you feel
now you're a punch drunk sycophant, a little s.o.b.
you say your mind is made up, isn't that the way that it's supposed to be

and it's a long way down
and it's a long, long way down

walking that tall your head is gonna trip your feet
walking with the devil's fine, just don't call it looking for sympathy
when it's four a.m. and mister you can't sleep
'cause your blood's still rushing at cocaine speed
and you know all that you need's a little baby to say
ah mister cool down won't you let me fade those blues away

and it's a long way down
and it's a long, long way down
and when you hit the ground you're gonna know about it

mister let's you and me see if we can't make a deal
i'll give you the world and all you've gotta do is cry for me

the reason it's a clich? is because it's true
the harder you climb, the harder you fall, and that means you
so mister hard head, hard nose, hard as steel
you're just a punch drunk sycophant, a little s.o.b.

and it's a long, it's a long way down
and it's a long, long way down
and when you hit the ground you're gonna know about it