I look at my brown suitcase
And think of all the places that I've been,
Railroad yards and prison guards,
All the dumpy little towns along the stem
And the whispering of the people
As they watch every move that I go through;
I remember all these things,
Mostly I remember loving you.
I remember loving you
Back when the world was new,
And I think you loved me too.
I remember loving you.
The buckskin smells, so the people tell,