I've stayed in a lot of houses in my life, none of which I ever intended to stay for long.
Most of them open easily - there are no locks
just welcoming hosts, always with that same perfidious smile on their face.
They expect me to fall at their feet but they don't know yet that
I am the drug and they are the addict and when they whip up a whirlwind to drag me in I show them how much of a ******* hurricane I really am.
You see, I jump door to door
because my own house is haunted.
maybe once it was a home, but it is now unrecognisable.
All with locks and the windows are sealed shut, it's filled from basement to attic with ghosts who are mourning their losses and grudging their mistakes.

I don't know whether I'm locked in or locked out, and I can't tell you which is worse.