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Wake up, get ready |
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Wake up, get ready |
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What a wonderful trip's ahead |
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Well, wake up, get ready |
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Wake up, get ready |
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Such a wonderful trip's ahead |
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We get dressed as ghosts |
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With sheets taken from the bed |
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Inside our socks we hide travelers' checks |
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We are tourists of the dead |
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So let's pack up |
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Let's go. |
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So let's pack up |
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Let's go |
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Let's pack up |
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Let's go |
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Let's go |
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There was this tortoise, its shell was covered with jewels |
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And had been since time began |
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It knew the world through all its histories |
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And the universe and its mysteries |
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One day it came across a man |
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The two were talking |
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The tortoise offered to tell him |
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About the future and how the universe ran |
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Oh, the man killed the tortoise, took his shell |
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And with a song on his lips walked off again |
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So let's walk off |
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Let's go |
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So let's walk off |
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Let's go |
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So let's walk off |
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Let's go |
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So let's walk off |
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Let's go |
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Pack a lunch wander 'round |
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Toss the map on the ground |
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It isn't accurate anyways |
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We've been getting away |
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We've been getting away |
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We are Strangers to Ourselves |
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We sneak out |
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Drip by drip |
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Through paper cuts on our hands |
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Day after day |
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Nothing's quite the same |
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We are tourists in our own heads |
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So let's walk on |
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Let's go |
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Let's walk on |
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Let's go |
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Let's walk on (I think I feel ready to go) |
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Let's go |
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Let's walk on |
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Let's go |
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(I think I feel ready to go) |
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(I think I feel ready to go) |
