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Down Come The Mickey

This song is by Cop Shoot Cop and appears on the album Consumer Revolt (1990).

It's a particular taste in the mouth
Difficult to describe
Check the secretaries on the subway
Blank pages with paper-punch eyes

And the black boys fresh out of prison
Say: it's easy on the inside
It's just tough on parole
And: Hey man, we don't need your money
We're just checking your pockets for holes

And the night crawls by
With every cigarette drag
All shallow and twisted like a gutterstream
No flash of light, no spark of life
In this goddamn tunnel
Just a waterbug in a jet of steam.

And then down come the Mickey
Down come the Mickey, one more time
Down come the Mickey

My friends are bad Bukowski
And I'm a bad joke
That's repeated at parties
Don't write it in stone
Unless it's an epitaph
These things are worth one laugh

And then down come the Mickey
Down come the Mickey, one more time
Down come the Mickey
I was hit from behind...

Well, this one's for the one's
That got it better than I got
And this one's for the one's
That got it worse.
And this one's for the one's
That took it hard with a cheap shot
This one's for him what wrote this verse

And then down come the Mickey
Down come the Mickey, one more time
Down come the Mickey

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