Life As A Tourist

Never belonging, always passing through
What people say never matches what they do
Seems like everyone’s deluded except you
But how would you even know if that’s not true?
Dressed up to our true ideals
The golden image of the inner self
Scavenged costume and painted cake
So unwitting of our teenager mistakes
You despaired of the girls we saw
In their combats and boots
How can they so waste their femininity?
You so wanted to guide them
But I would have been them
Life as a tourist
Searching for the world supposed to be
On a spinning lump of stone somewhere far from home
I will be the perfect me, wait and see
City boy achieves his dream and buys his place in the country
But the locals won’t indulge his fantasy
He complains about the lack of respect
They show for their rustic heritage
Lord of the Mock Tudor Manor, knight of the Vorsprung Durch
And they hated him and mocked his name
And rightly so, because who’d like such a man that would patronise
But are we guilty of just the same behaviour?
Life as a tourist
Searching for the world supposed to be
Life as a tourist
Searching for the world supposed to be
On a spinning lump of stone somewhere far from home
I will be the perfect me, wait and see
On a spinning lump of stone somewhere far from home
I will be the perfect me, whatever I most want to beLife as a tourist
Searching for the world supposed to be
Life as a tourist
Life as a tourist

credits

from Songs From The Age Of Human Error, released November 7, 2015
Words and music by Kerry Jackson-Kay
Performed and produced by Kerry Jackson-Kay
This one didn’t have a chorus until the very last minute.  The original concept was a series of related verses about how desire to find a place that will match the idealised vision most of us build of how life ought to be can result in behaviour and attitudes that only increase alienation and isolation, leading to the simple conclusion that this is life as a tourist.  Once I actually recorded it though, the need for a more developed chorus section became apparent.
The second verse is a reference to some I encountered in the trans scene who seemed to treat crossdressing as a mission of conquest to demonstrate to their tomboyish girlfriends how to more closely resemble the perfect women they wished them to be, with predictably awful results for all concerned.  The third verse describes a scenario familiar to anyone who has lived in anywhere vaguely rural, where wealthy urbanites will arrive in pursuit of an idyllic country house existence with barely disguised contempt for locals showing any signs of living in a way not fitting with their Olde Englishe Dornford Yates fantasies.