Brian Paone

Author // Musician

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We are all made of broken glass
We are (what?!):

Everything that's left behind, everything
Everything that's left behind, everything
Everything that's left behind, or everything
Everything that's left behind, everything

Trap the rubble in all this dust
The coughing starts and we are left
With the battle of getting out
Through the plaster of our own lives

Searching and cracking, concrete to greet us
Faithful and bleeding, windows meet doorways

Trap the rubble in all this dust
The coughing starts and we are left
With the battle of getting out
Through the plaster of our own lives

And in this suitcase of infra-red weighing the debris
The staircase shatters with the sound of silent footfalls

All the buildings start to crumble
Under the weight of us gasping,
Everything that's left behind, everything that's left behind,
everything that's left behind, everything...
Everything that's left behind, everything that's left behind,
everything that's left behind, everything...

Everything that's left behind, everything
Everything that's left behind, everything

Trap the rubble in all this dust
The coughing starts and we are left
With the battle of getting out
Through the plaster of our own lives

Searching and cracking, concrete to greet us
Faithful and bleeding, windows meet doorways

Your coughing stops, your coughing stops

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