A Thousand Lost Golf Balls

Way beneath the waves cobblestones and suvs
Flow through ancient streets, the floors of silent seas
Way back in libraries lost our little heads were graced with straws
In the waste we found a place, a bed of broken jaws

And in the night
We listen to the rats
Scuttling over broken glass

Somewhere in the debris
Maybe there's a dream
Somewhere in the dark
Maybe there's a heart

It's always night or we would not need light