Knocking them down is half the thrill,
Ripping them up makes all the patience leave me,
When there's no one left to tell,
Find a piece of me and throw it in the well.
Now you ain't so tough…
But it never kills me, just winds up wounding me,
It's never ending inside the well,
How we all fall down under its spell.
I must have missed the cue,
When does the spark begin to resume?
Lining them up is half the thrill,
Throwing them down makes all the smoke turn to plumes.