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