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Written by Steve Skaith / Mike Jones
Another night’s broken glass what was it this time?
Was it the last of the free-gift champagne flutes from the filling station?
Was it the wedding present tray, engraved ‘Congratulations’?
Was it the snow scene coliseum from Corinne’s room?
Must have been most of the downstairs lights judging by the gloom.
Or the wall clock, or the mixing bowl or the living room’s sliding door
No. It must have been the mirror,
We can’t see ourselves anymore.
Another night’s broken glass, hey watch where you’re walking
Take a deep breath before you sweep the mess, break out the sticking plaster.
Retrieve the bracket from the timepiece, is it ticking faster?
As the vacuum sucks the splinters in, they tear the sack.
The ship’s broken out of the bottle and it won’t be sailing back.
Not to this typhoon, to this River Plate, to this act of piracy
Where all the salty renegades are really you and me.
A man is a ship of glass tossed in a sea of terror
We don’t need these metaphysics spelling out the error
As you crack a composition of soda, lime and sand
And you curse the old Phoenicians as it cuts into you hand
Another night’s broken glass what was it this time?
Another night’s broken glass what was it this time?
Was it the snow scene coliseum from Corinne’s room ?
Must have been most of the downstairs lights judging by the gloom.
Or the wall clock, or the mixing bowl or the living room’s sliding door
No. It must have been the mirror,
We can’t see ourselves anymore.
Another night’s broken glass.