Broken Glass

Looking up I see nothing but blue sky
The people who come here must see this as paradise
But you only get to know a place
If you stay for more than two nights

And I find myself missing all the things I used to hate
I guess it must just be in my blood by now
I miss the light and the crowd
But most of all I miss the sound

The sound of traffic
The sound of cars crossing tram lines
The sound of panic
The sound of not enough time