I don`t want to grow anything in my heart I don`t want to write all these things int he sand I don`t wish to listen and not understand I don`t want to tramp up the footpath of stares Don`t want to be an advocate Don`t want to be a momument
There is nothing that grows in your arctic world
I don`t want to breathe that Smithsonian air I don`t want to listen when they toll the bell `cos I can`t take another industrial feast On the ground, on my back, out there I want to meet the president Of a country without sense
There is nothing that grows in his arctic world There is nothing that grows in your arctic world There is nothing that grows in this arctic world
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