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