I feel like I got stoned It feels nice to live alone
Pull up outside of anywhere that looks hospitable I'm home
Saw some other folks around the way getting hassled for their poverty It makes me feel like singing acab One day you’ll get what’s coming I felt the freedom of being free from rent And felt the burden of needing a place to take a shit
It’s not quite glamorous And I'm not quite homeless But what you start to notice It’s not a world of difference
Do we need permission to exist or do we just need to afford it? If it’s a one way street I’d rather be off the beaten path
It’s not a world of difference It’s not a world of difference It’s not a world of difference
