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
In waiting rooms painted white
And late at night when you're asleep
It follows you in your dreams
Writer(s): Brett Sparks, Rennie Sparks
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