Arctic World

I don't want to grow anything in my heartI don't want to write all these things int he sandI don't wish to listen and not understandI don't want to tramp up the footpath of staresDon't want to be an advocateDon't want to be amomumentThere is nothing that grows in your arctic worldI don't want to breathe that Smithsonian airI don't want to listen when they toll the bell'cos I can't take another industrial feastOn the ground, on my back, out thereI want to meet the presidentOf a country without senseThere is nothing that grows in his arctic worldThere is nothing that grows in your arctic worldThere is nothing that grows in this arctic world