There is a sound like breaking glass When water falls on dying grass There is a sound sung by the sea And plastic bags caught in trees
There is a sound all buildings cry Right before the morning light The quiet sound that's left behind When airplanes fall from the sky
It sleeps inside flourescent lights And waiting rooms painted white And late at night when you're asleep It follows you in your dreams Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa. |