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!