Where is the real stuff and when do we know? I got a pocket full of money and no place to go And I'm sure that it's hard, but always too slow I got a head full of something and nothing to show Took a casual walk to let off some steam And I found that maybe we're not what we seem Why was it always the land and fear of the sea It may be too late but you could've just asked me I always find myself stranded with cuts on my face In some strange part of town where I don't know my place But I've never left normal And if that were the case I could never come back If my footsteps erased And the houses are sleeping all down your block And I'll probably give up just so we can talk I got a head full of something and nothing to show For a pocket full of money and no place to go My brother he's walked from New Zealand to Rome I crawled to the city and couldn't find my way home He might never come back by the way taht he talks As where you always return from casual walks