Nobody was born here
    But we'll die here
                   Sink into this rough soil
  And fertilize a tree.
                       And that tree will grow leaves,
           And come fall baby,
     People will come from all over just to see them drift away from the thing that gave them life.

Nobody was born here
     But then again,
   No one knows what "here" even means
         The meaning was lost in years and years of general nonchalance
               It sounds beautiful,
   But ****** if we know how to explain it.

Nobody was born here,
            But we can choose to call it home.
   We can choose to grow old here,
And we can choose to die here.
               And if we don't know how to define it, then that leaves a blank we can fill in with anything we want
        No matter what
        Anything at all.
  And if that means you sink into this rough soil,
      Just to fertilize one tree,
          Then come fall, baby
    People will come from all over just to see your leaves change and drift,
        And baby,
           That means you're beautiful.