Lyrics:

I am a blurred-out, background spot in the photo on your wall
I am of little significance to anyone here at all
I’m just a man with no roots
Borrowed songs and busted boots
Always broke, but on the move

I am a tourist in your sunny day
Like the babysitter
And when I see your dog smile
I cry inside a little ‘cause there’s just…

CHORUS
So much to touch, but never enough to hold
When you live your life through postcards and telephones
Just like the wind blowing through
Or that train going a choo-choo
We were born with walking shoes
So I guess I’ll be seeing you
We were born with walking shoes

God bless my soul, as I take his name in vain
We are cursed to be travelers in search of fame
So when we hit the Hollywood Hills
We’re gonna scream our names
Hoping one day that they’ll echo

We are the tourists in your sunny day
Both sweet and bitter
And life is just a work in progress
It makes us sigh a little ‘cause there’s just

CHORUS
CHORUS

So much to touch, but never enough to hold
You can live your life like Mr. Dylan’s Rolling Stone
He left the answers on the wind
And behind that choo-choo
We were born with walking shoes. So I guess I’ll be seeing you
We were born with walking shoes. America, we’ll be seeing you
Only ever passing through. So I guess we’ll be seeing you
We were born with walking shoes

I am a blurred-out, background spot in that photo on your wall