You Are A Tourist

Portable television shrouded in snow

In a raggedy van on the side of the road

The night it had frozen through my little bones

So you took me in your arms you squeezed out the cold

And oh ooh oh ooh oh ooh

Upstate New York autumn brightly colored leaves

Oh the hills were on fire they burn for you and me

And where we were going it was built like a lie

But as sacred as the Bible so we didn't question why

And oh ooh oh ooh oh ooh

I saw it in the soil just recently

Where the rows of teeth they grow in fields of infinite greed

And here laid the father and here stood the son

Where the road meets the horizon for everyone

For everyone

Portable television take us away

From this burden of reflection we've carried today

Oh the generator's running but there's nothing on the air

And the static is a comfort so we huddle around and stare

And oh ooh oh ooh oh ooh

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