Warsaw Ghosts

I spent a cold afternoon sipping coffee in a cafe in Warsaw
Where nobody spoke English except for the waitress
Who kept feeding me sweet cake and smiles

And the lines around the city signifying
The emptying of the city in wartime
And ghosts of small children treading delicately on either side
The occupiers stables the only building left standing now
Surrounded by modernist architecture
That the Communists built
To provide the people with warm and affordable housing.

That was progress, this was Warsaw.
My coffee was hot but my heart was cold.

There was snow on the ground
And the ghosts of small children were leaving tracks across the park
The girls were laughing
All wrapped up in hats and coats and gloves and scarves
They rebuilt a whole city from nothing
And now it's home to a million people
Who go about their business not knowing
That they tread on ghosts all of the time

The ghosts are laughing, because this is Warsaw.
The vodka is cold but our hands are warm.

This is progress, that is Warsaw.
A city created out of nothing but a heart that would not die

That is progress, this is Warsaw.
A city that is haunted by its histories and its lies

This is progress, this is Warsaw.
Humans take the cold and make it come alive