Lloyd Cole - Travelling Light

Travelling Light

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 and endless miles of dust
Dreaming of soaring high above this vacant lot
All dreams of flight - traveling light

Traveling Light
If not for scheming constellations in the night
Determined to align themselves against my designs
I would be traveling light

Sailor's harmonica and 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
If not for bitter constellations in the night
Determined to align themselves against my designs
I should be traveling light

If not for twisted guidance councellors
In spite of sympathetic bartenders
intent to do me right
I should be
I should 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