Out of my suitcase
Tinkara KovačI live out of my suitcase
There’s some dust in it
And a poor old colored silk scarf
If you open it just for a while
You can smell the fear inside
But I promise that one day
I’m gonna let in the sun
I finger-sign the window-pane
Pick up a red balloon
Lay down hearts, clubs, spades and diamonds
Sleep in hazy towns, meet no land’s kings
Talk to relocated heroes
Put my feet on the hill
Of the magical thrill in gold
Eternal traveler
You will find the marks
Of your footsteps in my song
When I walk down the street
With no face to meet
My keys don’t fit no home
When the night and the stars lay low
I take off and go my way
There’s some dust in it
And a poor old colored silk scarf
If you open it just for a while
You can smell the fear inside
But I promise that one day
I’m gonna let in the sun
I finger-sign the window-pane
Pick up a red balloon
Lay down hearts, clubs, spades and diamonds
Sleep in hazy towns, meet no land’s kings
Talk to relocated heroes
Put my feet on the hill
Of the magical thrill in gold
Eternal traveler
You will find the marks
Of your footsteps in my song
When I walk down the street
With no face to meet
My keys don’t fit no home
When the night and the stars lay low
I take off and go my way