Texty: Andrew Bird. Armchair Apocrypha. Plasticities.

This isn't your song, this isn't your music
How can there be wrong, when by committee
They choose it all, they choose it all

You're gonna grow old, you're gonna grow cold
Bearing signs on the avenues, for your own personal Waterloo
You're bearing signs on the avenue for your own personal Waterloo, now

We'll fight, we'll fight
We'll fight for your music halls and dying cities
They'll fight, they'll fight
They'll fight for your neural walls and plasticities
And precious territory, and precious territory, and precious territory

This isn't our song, this isn't even a musical
Think life is too long, to be a whale in a cubicle
Nails under your cuticle

Gonna grow old, you're gonna grow so cold
Before the sun can deliver you, you're bearing signs on the avenue
You're bearing signs for your own personal Waterloo, now

We'll fight, we'll fight
We'll fight for your music halls and dying cities
They'll fight, they'll fight
They'll fight for your neural walls and plasticities
And precious territory, and precious territory, and precious territory