i don t wanna grow anything in my heart i don t want to write all these things in the sand i don t want to listen and not understand i don t want to tramp up the footpath of stars don t want to be an advocate don t want to be a monument 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