| The beam bridge, seeming to be the ridge spanner
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| all manner of planks gets employed under the banner
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| of progress, 85 yards the max
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| nobody plummets to the bottom of ravines intact
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| and so the truss bridge must be seen as an improvement,
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| cantilever even receiving the translucent
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| inducement to get wrecked (high-tech)
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| and watch the Firth of Forth fall in the drink, one should expect
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| and so you step with the arch bridge, point to every zenith
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| say that gravity’s smart, you settle stones just like a genius
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| but I seen this tumble like crumbs from cookie’s lips
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| the aquaducts no longer seem to irrigate worth spit
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| the suspension bridge could go like seven thousand feet
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| but it’s seven plus one from here to where I wanna be so I free up the styrofoam peanuts that i been packing
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| if I’m lacking in boats it’s cause I’m fearful of the kraken
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| now I’m stacking little floaters and I’m banding them together,
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| I could travel in this manner over water to wherever
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| if the bonds hold tight let’s take a hike to honolu
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| then you’ll be whistling the praises of the float-bridge too |