Well I haven't paid rent for a month or more I'm couch surfing And I don't have a key cause I don't have a door I'm couch surfing I'm not answering questions I'm between houses Of my material possessions I've lost track I didn't need them Everything I need fits in my backpack I call it freedom A pair of jeans some shirts and a guitar lead A toothbrush, socks and a paperback reader All the rest is what's hanging off of me And I'm not taking calls I'm between houses Outside the night is dark and stormy And you blew up the air mattress for me We'll talk all night like an open book And I'll sleep on every breath you took Before you leave I'll sneak a look up at you But there's an old saying that could bare retelling
When you're couch surfing: 'the guest should leave before the fish starts smelling' When your couch surfing It's romantically existential To reduce your life to the bare essential All that which is inconsequential guides me But this whole theory really depends On weather or not you've got good friends And all this weightlessness the philosopher preach Reduces you to societies leach But tonight i've landed on my feet I'm still one friend away from the bum on the street And i've used up all my good will vouchers On every single friend with couches It won't be long before they'll ask me to leave It's time i cut myself some keys Give me a pen i'll sign a lease and go get me a home