| A rainbow tour bus winds upwards through a scenic turf war | |
| If your kinetosis doesn't get you first, the white guilt will will will | |
| The view from broken bottle make out spots is panoramic | |
| If nostalgia hasn't slit my wrists this premonition will will will | |
| Volcanic dirt stains feet and won't wash out of clothing this is | |
| where your ashes should be strewn instead of some cold mainland suburb | |
| I'd say hello if I remembered how to find your headstone | |
| If Tantalus can't save us then a vigil never will will will will | |
| The motor coach floats upwards | |
| Then it's gone completely | |
| Tantalus, Tantalus, we are tourists on a bus | |
| Now the skies are watching us | |
| Tantalus, Tantalus, we are tourists on a bus | |
| Now the skies are watching us | |
| Tantalus, Tantalus, we are tourists on a bus | |
| Now the skies are watching us | |
| Tantalus, Tantalus, we are tourists on a bus | |
| Now the skies are watching us | |
| Tantalus, Tantalus, we are tourists on a bus | |
| Now the skies are watching us |
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