Lyrics:

growin up in a biosphere with no respect for bad weather there's still roaches and ants in here so resourceful and clever. her greatgrandfather saw the future didn't know nothing bout panic, he certainly probably thought that it was unthinkable. there's a trace o mint wafting in from the north so we don't fuck with the 401 it's bigger than us or larger than we bargained i guess it's just not done. his greatgrandfather worked for goodyear he'd see the blimp on sundays wonder what the driver knew about making rubber tires. terrarium, o terrarium there's 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 greatgrandfather was a welder he helped to build the titanic he didn't certainly think that is 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 injured and faking if there's glory in miracles it's that they're reversible terrarium, o terrarium