| Song | The Old Fisher Burial Ground |
| Artist | Polar Bear Club |
| Album | Chasing Hamburg |
| 作曲 : Polar Bear Club | |
| There's always music playing near the fountains | |
| And I don't think I've ever seen the band | |
| The people, they walk briskly through the courtyard | |
| With their kids and plastic bags in either hand | |
| All this waiting | |
| And no one is calling out | |
| The sound of footsteps | |
| Makes room tones fade and drown | |
| There are speakers on a pole in every corner | |
| The wires go unchecked for days and days | |
| Dry leaves gather at bases of buildings | |
| What will become of here when wires fray, when wires fray | |
| All this waiting | |
| And no one is calling out | |
| The sound of footsteps | |
| Makes room tones fade and drown | |
| Like reveille at dawn to me | |
| The floor is shaking | |
| All this waiting | |
| And no one is calling out | |
| Seven stones, they stand on city limits | |
| With their backs to the town | |
| No one knows the story, it's how they'd want it | |
| It's how they wanted to be found | |
| No escape, no relationship | |
| No escape and only one to miss | |
| There's the Fisher plot off highway 22 | |
| It overlooks the road from raised ground | |
| Seven stones, they stand on city limits | |
| With their backs to the town | |
| No one knows the story, it's how they'd want it | |
| It's how they wanted to be found | |
| No escape | |
| No relationship | |
| I know I'm small-time | |
| I know this city's mind | |
| I've seen some places | |
| So what I take and what I leave are one the same | |
| One and the same | |
| They're nothing |
| zuò qǔ : Polar Bear Club | |
| There' s always music playing near the fountains | |
| And I don' t think I' ve ever seen the band | |
| The people, they walk briskly through the courtyard | |
| With their kids and plastic bags in either hand | |
| All this waiting | |
| And no one is calling out | |
| The sound of footsteps | |
| Makes room tones fade and drown | |
| There are speakers on a pole in every corner | |
| The wires go unchecked for days and days | |
| Dry leaves gather at bases of buildings | |
| What will become of here when wires fray, when wires fray | |
| All this waiting | |
| And no one is calling out | |
| The sound of footsteps | |
| Makes room tones fade and drown | |
| Like reveille at dawn to me | |
| The floor is shaking | |
| All this waiting | |
| And no one is calling out | |
| Seven stones, they stand on city limits | |
| With their backs to the town | |
| No one knows the story, it' s how they' d want it | |
| It' s how they wanted to be found | |
| No escape, no relationship | |
| No escape and only one to miss | |
| There' s the Fisher plot off highway 22 | |
| It overlooks the road from raised ground | |
| Seven stones, they stand on city limits | |
| With their backs to the town | |
| No one knows the story, it' s how they' d want it | |
| It' s how they wanted to be found | |
| No escape | |
| No relationship | |
| I know I' m smalltime | |
| I know this city' s mind | |
| I' ve seen some places | |
| So what I take and what I leave are one the same | |
| One and the same | |
| They' re nothing |