Man In A Suitcase

A portrait of a life Wrapped up in decayed paper tales Telling half-truths and lies Cigarettes, bourbon, and betrayal He took a room with a view Of the perpetual railway station He'll leave in a week or two Unearthed a few truths and a host of frustrations Oh, he's our man Oh, he's our man In a suitcase Oh, in a suitcase A bottle of forgotten time And a diary half remembered Ringed photo of a ticket up-line A drunken letter written mid-September With autumn in his face Like the battered book, he doesn't understand Wearing his suitcase Like a lover's ring on his left hand Oh, he's our man Oh, he's our man In a suitcase Oh, in a suitcase He's moving on now