Suitcase Full of Sparks - Gregory Alan Isakov

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