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Mapping the pathways of ancient Czech streets
With a tattered 'Rough Guide' in your hand
Dangerous crossings were faced with an ease
And The Golem was at your command

Knowing the turning around
Facing the passing that rings with the sound
Of a culture that grinds to an end
Leaving us both to content

That what is ours will fade away
That what we shared is cleared away
And the nights of broken glass
Leave no trace

The face of the Winter was bearing upon
The foundations of reverence and grace
Skipping across all those cobblestone paths
You felt strangely at ease in that place

Knowing the turning around
Facing the passing that rings with the sound
Of a culture that grinds to an end
Leaving us both to content

That what is ours will fade away
That what we shared is cleared away
That what is ours will fade away

And the nights of broken glass
And the nights of broken glass
Leave no trace.

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