The music flowed as smoke rings littered the barroom ghosts for a second washed clean by the smell of stale beer and worn out lines.
It's here I'm home and here I'm most detached from it all I'm invisible only wanting to view and catch a buzz to chase the nights passing .

I sometimes question this existence wonder why the **** no direction suits me best .
I used to fight the urge now I simply have grown to tired to care .
And where odes another find themselves sitting next to me?

Maybe I'm to damaged maybe I'm just happy being alone .
I haven't found the answers cause I truly never gave a **** about the questions to begin with.

There's more reflection in a empty seldom clean bar glass than within my heart darlin  and my times all that matters to me now .
I have no options and the past is dead to me as the person who most hold to be the man I no longer can be .

There's always a fire burning  I just wash it clean to keep you away.

Maybe when I'm lost home seems the furthest place from my thoughts .
Like some left behind castaway I have simply went insane with time.

Underneath the lights reflection I stand the same fractured and wanting nothing more than a stiff drink and some old song to keep me company into this smoke cast fade .

Maybe home is anywhere I choose  it to be .
So try not to question the man who is but a stranger to even me.

Cheers