Never found a place I felt quite home
Maybe I've been going about it wrong
Tried to find the right climate, and furniture, and floors
Never gave a thought to who might meet me at the door
Maybe I've been too much alone
Been going about this life all wrong
Is it in my nature, or does habit drive the force
Keeps me running endlessly on down this lonely course
I won't fall prey to your propaganda
I know full well my pattern clashes with the rest
Won't cut my feet to fit the shoes that you deem finer
Won't hear a no when my heart is singing yes
Doubt is the prison of my mind, prison of my mind
I know my heart is steering blind, my heart is steering blind
How many of the wants I have are born from my desires, born from my desires
And which come from the outside world, the trash I see, falls into me, it fuels my fire
Fire, it fuels my fire
I won't fall prey to your propaganda
I know full well my pattern clashes with the rest
Won't cut my feet to fit the shoes that you deem finer
Won't hear a no when my heart is screaming yes
Yes
Yes
Maybe I've been too much alone
Been going about this life all wrong