I'm sitting here among my stuff
with yet no place to go
The walls are moving in on me
the ceiling, too, I know.
I can't get out, and I can't shout
life is becoming slow
and resignation waits outside
and spite begins to grow
I -
can't lean on love or
lie on the truth or
ever believe in fate
I -
can't walk on love or
fly on a dove or
hope it is never getting late.
Home is where the heart is
Right now you find me
Just sitting here among my stuff
Can't help I'm feeling low
The ground is dancing under me
the ceiling starts to flow
The sounds I hear, they turn to me
they giggle and say: No!
You set your sails in vain, because
for you, no wind will blow.