Riddle in My Suitcase




Headed out for fortune

headed out for dreams

but the telephone is ringing

and its calling me obscene

the operator’s German, 

and I can’t hear her well

but she’s talking so sweetly,

casting a wicked wicked spell


Writing on the table

Waiter ain’t comin back

the bartender’s dreaming

about flowers turning black

there’s a riddle in my suitcase, but I don’t give a damn

because I’m running out of money 

in this god forsaken land


Rode the train from Boston

rode the train all night

with memories of her spinning

in a foreign kind of light

she’s off to join the circus

where the animals stay wild

but she’ll always be avoiding 

the worried eyes of her child


streets are dark and lonely

shadows shuffle by

their tongues all clank and rattle

with the same old dirty lie

and it’s written on my forehead, 

I can see you’ve got one too,

we gotta wear it like we want it,

that’s the best that we can do.


(From the album Seven Years Now)

music & lyrics by James Houlahan

published by Gumbo Luvah Music