Bright lights cloud the calm nights,
I'm walking the streets of Katowice.
Foggy mists blanket musty streets:
A building site under a dusty sheet,
It's clasping at my feet; oh, cold clamps of snow.
I'm treading in a murky mush,
Whilst my footsteps lose all flow.

Lost in a foreign city, no words left to speak -
Muted from reality, falsely feeling free.
Free from responsibility, but not from oppression:
An iron language barrier curtains my expression.
I'm yearning succession from this concrete wall,
I want to shout and call, and confidently stand tall:
So I can feel at home, and feel free,
In this city which feels so alien to me.