everytime i come back home
i get this feeling i'm alone
yet the streets are all the same
and all my friends still know my name.
i wonder when i'm at my door,
will this key work anymore?
does someone else now live inside,
and think the former tenant died?

i don't know if i'll be back this time

sometimes i wish that it were cold
and i had someone warm to hold
to watch the clouds move through the skies
and keep my feelings occupied
i never thought i'd want to leave
i thought i had all that i'd need
yet my apartment feels so small
when i come home and no one's called

i don't know if i'll be back this time
i don't know if i'll be back this time
i might just stay here with you

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