I think I want to find my own way back home, now

The air is thick with muttered words and stuttered thoughts

And I think the alcohol in my veins is loosening the grasp

That I have on reality, because I'm considering things I really-

On and on the wall becomes a more comfortable friend than you,

And they stumble by, all these conversations at a passing glance

I've got no place, being in this place, I just want to go