Smokestack - The Walkabouts



Swept the floor of dreams

Live ones in the cracks

Crawling from the woodwork

Just to break your mother's back



Hail the future king

No surprises left

Formula is widely know by chemists

And the minds they've blown



Smokestack

Smokestack

Smokestack



Count 'em 1 in 10

Can't hold on to those threats

Not-so-distant cousins

Of the nails on which you slept



Amateur contortionist

With pyrotechnic skill

This is not a mob you rule

It's just the family barbecue



Smokestack

Smokestack

Smokestack



Smokestack

Smokestack

Smokestack



Standing on my head

And just in time to see

A promise in each pocket

And a liar in each sleeve

The spoils have been crudely cut

In out of balance halves

Nothing left to peace or calm

That explosions couldn't bring along



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