Sinkhole

Well, I got myself tangled in my American circumstance
Yeah, I'm hog-tied, strung up in a good ol' American circumstance
I had some money and a big idea, but I couldn't keep 'em in my pants
No, no, no

Now I'm standing on the corner like in fifty other songs
Yeah, I'm standing on the corner blowing in my hands like in sixty other songs
I've been here so many times before, but I've never felt like I belong
No, no, no

Yeah, there's a sinkhole where our house used to bе
There's a big black gaping sinkhole whеre our pretty house used to be
Too many records and books with heavy ideas made a broken home out of me

Is this like a short story or an autobiography?
Is this a work of fiction or am I singin' about me?
Well, I can tell you'd like to know, but I can't tell, I can't tell you what to believe
No, no, no
But here we are again, I can't say it doesn't matter as far as I can see