A jolly little one about solitude, fear of commitment, and how we are creations of our past. It started as "I" but I rewrote as "he" because the character felt better as observed rather than confessional. Will be a folky thing with a line from the Spanish lute I think.
What I'm not too sure about are the choruses which seem very long... Also not sure if I should start with the shampoo etc. - would switching verses 1 and 2 add or take anything away?
Any constructive and specific comments welcome as ever!
Travel Size
V1 (set up)
He's got travel shampoo, mini cologne
Toothpaste and shaving foam
Lined up like knights ready to fight
Against the X-ray machine and being tied to a home
V2 (no ties)
No car or land gives him what he needs
They'd weigh him down with their keys
Just plastic cards, a boarding pass
Loose change thrown away, a small price to stay free
CH
Like an airline bottle of wine
His life's made for one
He orders two bottles of Jack
The size of his thumbs
108 sit on the plane
Sharing his space
But he's not sharing nothin’ with anyone.
V3 (why)
Grew up in a house where the only things shared
Were debts and rows and a name
Chardonnay shards, Seagrams smashed in the yard
Thrown back together when the garbage truck came
V4 (locked in)
Relationships left like paperbacks
On motel bedside tables
His whole life in a case for an easy escape
When your heart’s travel size, settling down's fatal
(c) 2018, Adam Farr, all rights reserved