When it’s quiet in the city,
It’s a temporary hush,
A break from all the noises
Of the normal urban rush.
The bustle is suspended
For a holiday, perhaps,
Or the hour’s just so early,
From the hustle there’s a lapse.
When it’s quiet in the country,
That’s the way it’s gonna stay,
Though some birdsong or some scampers
May accentuate the day.
Many love the peace and silence,
Where their stress they can suspend,
But I much prefer the city sounds,
Just waiting ‘round the bend.
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