Suitcase by the Door

A quiet room, the lights low. Rain keeps time on the window, streetlights blur across the walls. Folded clothes on the edge of the bed, a passport in the hand.

Outside it is cold, but something has already changed. The song tells of the calm that comes when the doubt is gone: you are still in the room and already somewhere else, where the air is warm, the sea is near and the morning light is clear.

Not an escape. A decision that has settled in the chest. The suitcase stands by the door, and there is nothing left to think about.

Told from the song itself. Felt, not always lived exactly like this.

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