All's Quiet On the Inner City Front - Bruce Cockburn

    blue billboard on the roof next door
    makes a square of light on the kitchen floor
    smokes rises from a cigarette
    there's a dull glisten where the table's wet
    soft breath rises from the bed
    a thousand question marks over my head

    turn on the tube but there's nothing new
    the usual panic in red, white and blue
    "military advisors" marching in the square
    knife-sharp trouser creases slicing air
    private armies on suburban lawns
    shoulders braced against the tidal dawn
    all's quiet on the inner city front
    i don't know why i should but i feel content

    bell in the fire station tower
    rings out the measure of the racing hours
    i slip through the door to the roof outside
    to gaze at the sign hanging in the sky
    that sailor on the billboard looks so self-possessed
    doesn't have a thing to forgive or forget
    all's quiet on the inner city front.
     

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