I caught the bus in Chinatown
And slept the whole way up by 95
The driver, cut and weaved so crazy, just his luck kept him alive
and I guess I believe his rhythm on that morning after New Year‘s Eve
And I remember Shanghai
How I wasn‘t sure just what was safe to eat
The chickens pecked and wandered at the barefoot of the
children hawking figurines of workers smiling
What‘s the Chinese word for cheese?
Watched a sidewalk butcher
His instinctive understanding made the carcass snap and clarify
beneath his nimble hand that held the knife so long, so many
times, the handles‘ changed to shapes just like his fingers
and his palms
And I, I am a broken glass
Shards upon the floor
Won‘t hold nothing anymore
And I, I am a broken glass
Shards upon the floor
Won‘t hold nothing anymore
Anymore
It‘s 2AM in Tokyo
And still too soon to call back to the people who will soon begin
the day I polished off and I will walk a mile amidst the neon
lights that advertise but I don‘t know just what they sell
I tell the taxi driver
To the park, a higher tone
And his gloves his pristine white just like the girls I used to know
would wear to dance their first cotillion
Every single one of them named Jennifer
I clutched at the same Christopher
I picked up at some country abbey long ago when I believed he‘d
keep me safe and make me happy but it seems the luck he
brings is not the common currency of penny in your pant
And I, I am a broken glass
Shards upon the floor
Won‘t hold nothing anymore
And I, I am a broken glass
Shards upon the floor
Won‘t hold nothing anymore
And I, I am a broken glass
Shards upon the floor
Won‘t hold nothing anymore
Anymore