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