Station 18  

Looking out over the City, And thinking on how I'd redecorate. 
Been in no mood to paint this town red, but I'm so tired of painting it gray. 
  
I'm walking around just to wander, the street hisses where are the cars. 
That's a silent way we’ve been letting on, That it's still not okay at all.   
City don't leave me alone. Its cold and we need you to know. 
We're losing the faith in the blessings we've known. We feel homeless while we're still at home. 
  
Looking out over the city. In the holes where the towers now lay. 
Now a smoking, blinding, gray dying breath, Fills up the forsaken space. 
  
Your sinking down deeper in quicksand. That you poured in the garden you sow. 
Only weeds have been planted there, Now I'm not sure if even they'll grow. 
  
City don't leave me alone. Its cold and we need you to know. 
We're losing the faith in the blessings we've known. We feel homeless but we're still at home. 
  
Pulled a dead man from twisted debris, Dust covered coat read station 18. 
The Doctor's in wait but there's so few to see, and slowly we start to believe. 
I'm not sure yet whom we're going to fight, But they're teeming round the borders of Pakistan. 
& I'm not sure how we'll know when we've won, or if we'll ever fly again.