I woke up at home
But it wasn't my home
Dressed in pajamas that weren't my own
Smothered in a scent of powder, cheap cologne.

I can't seem to remember yesterday,
And my brain isn't mine, it feels miles away.

I speak some words in a language I cannot say,
I'm stray,
So I pray,
But all that is said fades
Into lines of grey.

Now that I think of it...
I think I thought,
I think of thoughts of mine,
I think...
Or am I drowning in this drink,
I thought?

Man, oh, man am I distraught,
What is this life that's not been taught,
This fresh Hell of which I've fought,
Is it for a purpose, or all for naught?

Good God, I'm laying in a burial plot!
...I thought.