Suitcase Full of Sparks

Traveling through the graveyard with a suitcase full of sparks Honey, I'm just trying to find my way to you Lit up every campfire I found out in the dark Oh, I cut down all the cottonwoods I picked up all the arrowheads off buffalo trails of the Indians The Oklahoma sky was cutting through Along the tracks with the Runaway, He just talks and talks and talks Honey, I'm just trying to find my way to you I quit counting stars that night in the cold by the satellite field And I quit panning gold, Digging holes Yeah, I'm just trying to find my way to you Swam across the Poncha Took a train to Cataloo Opened up my guitar case and all the songs were blue I haunted all the alleys Lord, I drifted down the valleys Honey, I'm just trying to find my way to you And I quit casting hooks off the California coast we held so dear And I quit flashing smiles, and running wild Yeah, I'm just trying to find my way to you Threw my bottle to the ocean, She never wrote me back All the countless days along the sea of blue Learned the language of the Mockingbird She took and twisted all my words Yeah, I'm just trying to find my way to you And I'll meet you in the graveyard With the winter trees and stars Oh, we could open up this suitcase full of sparks --- Suitcase Full of Sparks - Gregory Alan Isakov