Swept the floor of dreams
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Live ones in the cracks
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Crawling from the woodwork
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Just to break your mother's back
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Hail the future king
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No surprises left
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Formula is widely know by chemists
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And the minds they've blown
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Smokestack
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Smokestack
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Smokestack
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Count 'em 1 in 10
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Can't hold on to those threats
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Not-so-distant cousins
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Of the nails on which you slept
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Amateur contortionist
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With pyrotechnic skill
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This is not a mob you rule
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It's just the family barbecue
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Smokestack
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Smokestack
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Smokestack
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Smokestack
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Smokestack
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Smokestack
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Standing on my head
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And just in time to see
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A promise in each pocket
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And a liar in each sleeve
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The spoils have been crudely cut
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In out of balance halves
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Nothing left to peace or calm
|
That explosions couldn't bring along
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Smokestack
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The Walkabouts |