Tourist Woman 歌词

	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)

	For Tourist
	Woman, the itching is turning to fever and then to form
	For Tourist
	Woman, insecurities are bunkpollen for the swarm
	And viceversa, 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

	For Tourist
	Woman, the itching is turning to fever and then to form
	For Tourist
	Woman, insecurities are bunkpollen for the swarm
	And viceversa, 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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