Lyrics:

Track #3 on Andrew Bird’s fourth full-length studio album Armchair Apocrypha.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
To turn, to turn

You're gonna grow old
You're gonna grow cold
Bearing signs on the avenue
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

This isn't our song
This isn't even a musical
I think life is too long
To be a whale in a cubicle
Nails under your cuticle
To turn, to turn

Gonna grow old
You're gonna grow so cold
Before this song can deliver you
You're bearing signs on the avenue
You're bearing signs
For your own personal Waterloo now