Catch A Fallen Star - Marc and the Mambas

Black rings round your eyes

And you’re spewing your lies

That you know is your old routine

Spilling your drink

With a nudge and wink

As you boast about people you’ve been

Smoking your cigarette

Down to the butt

And your teeth are as black as the tar

You tell them at sex

You’re a stud in the bed

As you hang for your life on the bar

And you see your own peak

On the top of the mountain

Of bodies you trod on to get there

Shit on me, shit on her

Shit on you in the end

And they won’t even lend you the bus fare

Now you’re boring the pants off

The tart on the dance-floor

As you tell her the person you once were

She just sees you as trash

But she creams at the cash

That you might pay just to grope her

And this town is a potpourri of disease

Can you smell the herpes from the scum-sucking fucks

That hang around the same suckers each mid-night

You were being your photo

And spouting your promo

Flicking back your limp quiff

That’s as limp as your dick

Irritating your greedy cross-eyed sight

Oh Christ and you’re greasing up now

To the creepy old cow

That would sell out your mother and besides

Your sell-out assured

You were always a whore

And you’ve always been taken for long rides

At the smell of the bribe

You go jelly inside

As you step up the gold ladder to big time

Kick them on the way up, kick you on the way down

And you’ll need them all again in good time

Your friend is the «yes» man

Who sits by your side

With his hand in your pocket all the time

And he’s messing your head

Tries to get you in bed

Well it’s all masturbation of a kind

What you earn, heaven knows

It goes straight up your nose

And you strangle your health in the end

And you’re blinded by bull

And you’ve really been full

And it’s driving you straight round the bend

And you’re told that a smile is so worth your while

Its what «yes» men call diplomacy

It’ll get you the goal

But while losing the soul

You’re forgetting the quality

And you heave on your drink

As you’re starting to think

That all that shines may not be lam

But a cheap substitute

That’ll give you the boot

You’re just a stiff at a funeral party

Where you slouch on the bar

With your arm in the beer

Wearing yesterday’s mascara today

And it runs when you cry about living a lie

And the lie’s starting to fade away

Fade away

Fade away