Another typical day in this typical town
Dried up gra**, three trees to every garage
And there's a weathered old man every ten houses down
His sun stroked eyes seem lost in fantasy
Another typical day in this typical town
Cars driving past create a waste of sound
And there's a weathered old man every ten houses down
With a rusted barbecue and some old records inside
We're building castles, in the sky
It's not like we have a choice in the matter
We're dumbstruck, competing, fighting with our friends
Oh, perhaps it's all just mechanical
As we race to embrace another sunny afternoon
We're building castles