Tourists Ezra Bell

I felt it in the forest back when I was just a tourist
Laughing at the cities made of glass
You down by the stream with your million-dollar dream
Only two bucks left for gas

And your limbs are cardboard
Warm, all wrapped around me and
You wore my favorite see-through dress
But you gotta wait for now, child
Look outside it is Monday morning
Gotta put on your face and get you dressed

Oh, woah oh oh oh
Oh, woah oh oh oh

Down in the sand where we planned and we planned
To give the great unwashed a bath
All those years ago now before we come to know that
We'd only smell like shit ourselves

And your limbs are cardboard
Warm, all wrapped around me and
You wore my favorite see-through dress
But you gotta wait for now, child
Look outside it is Monday morning
Gotta put on your face and get you dressed