cass mccombs - tourist woman lyrics
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for tourist woman,
the itching is turning to fever
and then to form
for tourist woman,
insecurities are bunk-pollen for the swarm
and vice-versa,
the swarm, turning to fury,
captures a prisoner
tourist woman is unhappy
with the meager conditions
they have given her
from oxford to ucla
to impoverished streets
of a bengali village
t.w. fights for nothing,
believes in nothing,
except an image
the image in her mind
is of vague origin
of, mostly, western result
somewhat pyramid, somewhat cross,
somewhat a mongrel cult
like the old man
who slept his life away
romantics are doomed
(and that’s a good thing)
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