How long has it been since you've last gone outside?

Routines are the sedatives of all souls
The wild ones whose dreams bedazzle beyond a pillow
But all infallible ones turn the lights down low,
Lean against the window and count the blows.
The world appears to be wide awake -
It's deathly void of color
The lights from the stereo beacon for party goers in the making;

There's something to be said about life from the second floor.
I can't put my finger on it
'Cause you and your vision never make it to the other side of the window
But I don't want to keep stride through clouds of smoke.