Stupid Sentimental

"You're always leaving in a rush, in a hurry"
... And it's true, it's true, and it's funny
Those words are hers, and she ain't laughing
As once again you rush away

You rush away, fly like a flake
Leave all your smells like coats of paint
Into a cab, a van, a bus, the car
A plane, the train to some filthy bar

"You always listen to the same old songs
And read the same old dog-eared books"
You know she's right, you're just a dull disaster
Always back to your favorite chapter

Always the same, and you'll never change
The hotel sheets all bear your name
And the smells of each and every scene
From far East to West and in between
Just linger on your fingers like cologne or nicotine

In the haze of the fog
That's a cloud in my skull
There's a light that shines through
All the void and the null

I'm not continental
I'm stupid sentimental
I'm so continental
Jet-set, so fit for all the travel
So continental
And I'm so downed and barely able
So continental, tired, septic, stupid
Stupid sentimental