song of the silent

Take my suitcase, we’re goin out, out
to foreign lands, shapes of purple
and green with blue divide, a river
on the map. I hope you’ve got
your guitar somewhere in this mess,
cuz boy, there will be music, there will be dancin
where we’re goin, yeah we’re goin.
And I hear the spice’s not half-bad
where we’re headed, and not half-sad
to be headed.
Come, the hour’s now,
don’t bother with the lock,
come, let’s walk the walk.