I am a slow poke
Living in a fast, fast, fast world
I'll follow the leader
Be the end of the line at the never-ending curl
I am what's left behind
Left behind
Left behind
I am a keepsake
Standing in place as you shuffle through your day
Until the Goodwill takes me
I disappear into the thrown out display
(Chorus)
I am suitcase
Somehow forwarded into the wrong aero-plane
Easily replaced
By vouchers that get you exactly the same thing
(Chorus)
Your arms can't reach this low to pick me up
Your arms can't reach this low to pick me up
Your arms can't reach this low to pick me up, to pick me up
You've gone away from me
Away from me
Away from me
Away from me
There is no hope or certainty
That you'll be back someday
Your arms can't reach this low to pick me up
Your arms can't reach this low to pick me up