Gregory Alan Isakov – Suitcase Full Of Sparks (Ukulele)

C                      G
Travelling through the graveyard

       Am               G
With a suitcase full of sparks

       F                   G              C   G
Honey, I'm still trying to find my way to you

C            G
Lit up every campfire

Am               G
Found out in the dark

      F                G          C
Oh, I cut down all the cottonwoods

C                 G
Picked up all the arrow heads

    Am                    G
Off buffalo trails of the Indians

    F        G               C       G
The Oklahoma sky was cutting through

C                         G
Along the tracks with the runaway kid

   Am                  G
He talks and talks and talks

       F                  G              C
Honey, I'm just trying to find my way to you

    C      E        Am         F
And I quit counting stars that night

       C            F         E
In the cold, by the satellite field

    Am     G       C             F
And I quit panning gold, running holes

      C                  G              C 
Yeah, I'm just trying to find my way to you

C             G
Swam across Sapancha

       Am           G
Took a train to Cataloo

  C            G
I opened up my guitar case

    Am                 G
And all the songs were blue

  C               G
I haunted all the alleys

       Am                 G
Lord I drifted 'cross the valleys

       F                  G              C
Honey, I'm just trying to find my way to you

    C      E       Am
And I quit casting hooks

F           C               F       E
Off the California coast we held so dear

    Am     G        C                   F
And I quit flashing smiles, and running wild

      C                  G              C
Yeah, I'm just trying to find my way to you

         C             G
Threw my bottle in the ocean

    Am             G
She never wrote me back

        F               G                C    G
All the countless days across the sea of blue

            C               G
Learned the language of the mocking bird

Am               G
Took and twisted all my words

       F                  G              C
Honey, I'm just trying to find my way to you

         E               F
And I'll meet you in the graveyard

         F                   G      G7
With the weathered trees and stars

           F            G                C
And we can open up that suitcase full of sparks