On that cold winter day At that club
You and I met It had been a long time
Playing on that stage That skinny guy
Hitting his drum Banging his cymbal
Crash!
A row of gla**es Sitting on the table
I choose one I pick it up
As I lift it to my lips I saw you
You looked into my eyes I felt it slip away
Crash!
Now it's broken My gla** is in pieces
Gather them together Melt them down with fire
Now I can make A gla** figure
It looked like somebody Maybe Mick Jones?
Crash!