The Ports of Glass Harbour
While they're tattered but they're sweet
They'll hold you in, but they'll bring you down
Till you cannot find your feet
And it’s so discreet, when you're out on the street
Baby can't find your feet
The towns grown older
Than the books that it built
The buildings are strung together
Just like, just like my grandmothers quilt
And it holds the guilt
Stitched in that quilt, the dust and silt, that hold the guilt
When hard days surround you
And they're eating at your soul
Know that we all hurt, but there is love
Darling this I know
So you don't grow cold
As you grow old, don't grow cold

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