so i'm going on a trip i pack my suitcase and i take with me the day my son lost his favorite toy when he came running in the need of comfort the painting i never gave the girl i loved as a five year old and a picture of how she looks today i don't want anyone to take them away my precious things will go with me on this great ride my mother's smile and the memories of sitting at the kitchen table my feet to short to touch the floor stuff i haven't cared for a long time it's time to dust it off now carefully i put them in protecting my few precious things for this last ride it's not much easily I sort them out i even can leave a little s***e for my soul as I will join them once i'll have started my journey one never completely goes something of him stays it has got its place i pack my suitcase this trip goes far i pack my suitcase with black and white cold and warmth sun and moon and love and hate i will die don't cry goodbye it's ok rust is painting my face like an indian