| Discretion is a must, rising from the dust
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| On your feet but just a bit unsteady
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| You want to close your eyes, be taken by surprise
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| But not before you're absolutely ready
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| So lay low, as time permits
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| And you’ll know it when it hits:
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| It’s gonna sound like a big
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| It’s coming down like a big
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| It’s gonna pound like a big, strange, beautiful hammer
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| You’re feeling like a saint, powerful but faint
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| Like you want to call for an attendant
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| Heavy in your hand, courage on demand
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| You feel safe, and strangely independent
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| Once baptized in pain and light
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| You’d be advised to hold on tight
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| When you collide with a big
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| You coincide with a big
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| Filled inside with a big, strange, beautiful hammer
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| It’s coming down on you
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| It’s gonna drive you home
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| Discretion is a waste, now you’ve had a taste
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| You see yourself as well-maintained and polished
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| Existence is a test, we try to do our best
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| But we’re on a quest to be demolished
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| It’s your right, so don’t be shy
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| Day and night you’re smitten by
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| The might of a big
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| The blinding light of a big
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| It’s the night of the big, strange, beautiful hammer |