Then you check if they're asleep,
Sneak at the wash room,
Check if you made it right,
Damps some towel and looks for some holes,
Then you light it up.
As it gets to you, you hear them,
You know they're not there.
You just hear them.
And you realize when you go to bed,
Hearing the noise of the air-conditioner,
Your eyes adjusting to the darkness,
You see your pillow just the way you want it.
But no one can deny,
Your home is nowhere.
Not here, definitely not there.

                                                         ­           You just grew apart.