Testo Islands And Rupees

I’m an island
In a bottle
An old rupee in a box
Daydreaming about the places I’ve been
And I walk some streets to lose myself
Yeah it gets me far, far from this shore

I’m a picture on my fridge A ticket for a bus
Someone’s buried beneath the stones
The thrill is tattooed on the bottom of my shoes
A needle filled with foreign girls
Foreign girls

I’m the Eiffel on my keys
The night before I leave
Le bon voyage, we’ll meet again
Another round before the blast
Before this wound’s a souvenir

I’m a Turkish book of matches
A deserted peace of mind
While waiting for the train to come That’ll bring me to where they know my name
Saint Christopher has gone away
Gone away