Smokestacks' Cry

It's an early morning, the city's not quite awake yet
Back then, the sky was shining like burning cigarette
But now all seems gloomy and dark
Take a look to the sky, the smoke stacks down its trunk
And all the red bricks, now covered in smud on and on

They seem to salute to each other
Moaning a final farewell
For cutting the ancient sand
That we once used to smell

Oh, they whisper, we're retired, and I'll be quit smoking
Now we're dead and go hear them whisper
Our fires are so be, quit smoking
For the chase of gold, chase of gold

Way of life has changed, that's all too well, oh well
The work is the states are empty, lost and bare
But still all seems gloomy and dark
The factory gave way to a modern production hall
Now robots are workmen, yes, they knew it all

They seem to salute to each other
Moaning a final farewell
For cutting the ancient sand
That we once used to smell

Oh, they whisper, we're retired and don't be quit smoking
Now we're dead and don't kill them whispers
Our fires are still be quit smoking
For the chase of gold, chase of gold

The city now glims and modern me unlined
But it doesn't rise up to the sky by night
The smoke stacks are now into the eye
With a loud city noise, you can't hear them cry

Oh, they whisper, we're retired and don't be quit smoking
Now we're dead and don't kill them whispers
Our fires are still be quit smoking
For the chase of gold, chase of gold