its that itch
uncomfortable in your own skin,
turn the music up loud,
drown out your thoughts sorta itch
cant stop talking,
because your thoughts are so loud
cant stop moving,
if you do, you become comfortable, conformed
your mind is just constantly fucking racing,
you know something is waiting for you,
you just have to find it- where the hell is it?
pretty soon everyone unique, blends togther
the search for something extraordinary will never happen
your taking coffee, black, just to taste something
to live a little
and although this has been a nice vacation,
its time to go home,
i dont even know where the hell that is,
but its not here.