This is not my table, This is not my bad These are not my books and This is someone else's shelf At night I hear voices Say it's not my place I repeat it to myself These are not my hands, This is not my head This is not my body
It belongs to someone else Strangers on the street Say that I should leave But I don't know where to go Days turn into nights Nights turn into days I sleep in my clothes I'm prepared to go away