By Tom Waits

When traveling abroad
In the continental style,
It's my belief that one must attempt to be discreet.
And subsequently bear in mind
Your transient position
Allows you a perspective that's unique.
Though you might find your itinerary
A blessing and a curse,
Your wanderlust won't let you settle down.
And you wonder how you ever fathomed that you'd be content
To stay within the city limits
Of a small midwestern town.
Most vagabonds I knowed
Don't ever want to find the culprit
That remains the object of their long, relentless quest.
The obsession's in the chasing
And not the apprehending.
The pursuit, you see, and never the arrest.

Without fear of contradiction,
"Bon Voyage" is often hollered
In conjunction with a handkerchief from shore
By a girl that drives a Rambler
And furthermore is overly
Concerned that she won't see him anymore.
Planes and trains and boats and buses,
Characteristically,
Evoke a common attitude of blue,
Unless you have a suitcase
And a ticket and a passport,
And the cargo that they're carrying is you.
A foreign affair,
Juxtaposed with a stateside
And domestically approved romantic fancy,
Is mysteriously attractive
Due to circumstances knowing
It will only be parlayed into a memory.
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Thanks to (David A. Mason) for correcting these lyrics. Feb 6, 2008