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Down Come The Mickey

Artist:Cop Shoot Cop  Album:Consumer Revolt 

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It's a particular taste in the mouth Difficult to describe I checked the secretaries on the subway White pages with paper-punch eyes. And the black boys fresh out of prison Are saying it's easy on the inside, it's just tough on parole. Hey man, we don't need your money Yeah, we're just checking your pockets for holes. And the night crawls by with every cigarette drag All shallow and twisted like a birth scream No flash of light, no spark of life, no goddamn tunnel Just a water-bug in a jet of steam. Down come the Mickey Down come the Mickey One more time Down come the Mickey My friends are bad Bukowski and eh I'm a bad joke, that's repeated at parties



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