the outcasts came to me
and i sat in the back seats
of all their small cars
chain smoking
and i pretended
to feel at home
but i never feared the world enough
to truly let them in

and the envied came to me
and i sat on their made beds
in their big bedrooms
drinking grey goose
and i pretended
to feel at home
but i never was fearless enough
to truly let them in

and the scattered hearts
of girl and boy
brave and tired
came to me
and i held their hands
in movie theater bathrooms
and hotel swimming pool steps
pretending to feel at home
but i never tricked myself enough
to truly let them in

i always sat in the middle
feeling too complex for the simple
and too simple for the complex
but i never said too much

well,
i'm older now
and my life has lost
all of its mystery
i lie beside the same man
in the same home
after working the same job
each night
and i can't tell anymore
if i'm still pretending to feel at home
or if i finally found it