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