Broken+glass*

**Broken glass**
G C G C G C G C G D Em C G C G C
 * media type="custom" key="26456472"

The water’s rising quickly up the shore The old folks songs don't fit the land no more With dreams of high, dry fenced in suburbs, the village is forlorn Nervous eyes traverse the sky for that final storm

Here the clouds are high and they quickly pass The earth’s as hard and cruel as broken glass There were always some who said the good times could not last We were too busy being free to see they might end so fast

Am D Am C Am D Em C

Chorus: The sky's on fire The water's high I love you baby But my heart is dry

The pleasures we once found in all the things we owned Are dry and empty now as old dead bones How we gorged, but never full, we stood so all alone To watch as all we had ignored tore down our homes

Chorus: The sky's on fire The water's high I love you baby But my heart is dry

The pyramids with their crumbling walls The Roman ruins that once stood so tall How their certainty once held us in their thrall And the citadels that now cast their spell will too crack and fall

Chorus: (Repeat) The sky's on fire The water's high I love you baby But my heart is dry

Empty streets and abandoned cars The taps are dry in abandoned bars The cities move on but they leave their ghostly scars Those who stay too late to change stare out on empty yards he water's rising up the shore The old stories don't fit the land no more Everybody's makin' plans To be high and dry in some foreign land

Here the clouds are high The rain charts tumble and the heat charts climb

The kids with high dry dreams Are already thinking about life across the sea

Bridge: The invisible hands Only know one way to go Money must be free to wander We all must strive to grow But when all the best laid plans unravel The terror starts to show Lost as when we open doors on fears we long have closed

ll the world in our hands` all the empty promises we needed to believe all the

How many tears have disappeared to the distant stars ||  || The locals have no time to stop and mourn Building arks / They scan the sky for the building storm In foreign lands they'll sit safe and forlorn
 * The water’s rising quickly up the shore

With dreams of high, dry fenced in suburbs, the village is forlorn Nervous eyes traverse the sky for that final storm ||  ||