Don't Understand - The Weather Station

I slept on the couches of other people’s houses

Overwhelmed, I’d borrow their sheets

I went through their records.

They had piles of bills and letters

All these photographs of people I’d never meet

Layed out in the light, shirt on my eyes, and I try, but I know I won’t sleep

And I don’t understand anything that is happening to me

Like I’m telling a friend, and I don’t even believe me

Where did I bring them?

Where had I hidden the proof?

Held down in my hands, lying with nothing but the ways I had moved

And in waking and in sleeping, everything irretrievably new

And I go out for my meals, and I meet up for coffee

Could be how it feels irreversably free