Growin' up in a biosphere
No respect for bad weather
There's still roaches and ants in here
So resourceful and clever
Her great grandfather saw the future
Didn't know nothin' 'bout panic
He certainly prob'ly thought
That it was unthinkable
Trace a' mint waftin' in from the north
So we don't fuck with the four-oh-one
It's bigger than us and larger than we bargained
I guess it's just not done
His great grandfather worked for Goodyear
He'd see the blimp on Sundays
I wonder what the driver knew
About making rubber tires
Terrarium, terrarium
The submarines out there, under the ice
Avoiding and courting collision
An accident's sometimes the only way
To worm our way back to bad decisions
My great grandfather was a welder
He helped build the Titanic
He certainly didn't think that it was unsinkable
Building up to the larger point
With an arrogance not rare or pretty
We don't declare the war on idleness
When outside it's cold and shitty
We stay inside and try to conjure the fathers
Of the injured and faking
If there's a glory in miracles
It's that they're reversible