Travelling Light - Lloyd Cole

She's got the porter by the baggage carousel

She's got the means to make him hurt a little

She's going places he no longer dreams about

Beautiful dreams no doubt

Dreams of Savannah mornings hung with Spanish moss

Dreams of New Mexico endless miles of dust

Dreaming of soaring high above this vacant lot

All dreams of flight traveling light

Traveling light traveling light traveling light

If not for scheming constellations in the night

Determined to align themselves against my design

I would be traveling light

Sailor's harmonica gypsy guitar

Like I'm the last of the true believers

Kicking the dirt that might unearth

That lonesome song

You know the one that I was counting on

Traveling light traveling light traveling light

If not for bitter constellations in the night

Determined to align themselves against my design

I should be traveling light

If not for twisted guidance counselors in spite

Of sympathetic bartenders intent to do me right

I would be I would be traveling light

I am the porter by the baggage carousel

I am the leader of this small ensemble

And we will pack this little station wagon tight

Then take flight amongst the headlights