Tourist

[Verse 1]
I accidentally etched on the table
I'm a tourist to all my habits
We had too many, don't feel real stable
Call your angel whose heaven has backslid

[Verse 2]
I lazily stand, and I plan my whole life in a daze
Hungover, it's sunny outside in the frame
I walk to breakfast and forget my headphones
I listen to the sound of the neighborhood at play

[Chorus]
I often go back to that place
Where everything seems so surreal
I dig myself into the center of that silence
No grasping, no trying to feel

[Verse 3]
I found the wings of the green moth on thе ground
Out on a hike when the light was winding down
Am I capablе of a quiet life?
One that is open and focused and kind?

[Chorus]
I often go back to that place
Where everything seems so surreal
I dig myself into the center of that silence
No grasping, no trying to feel
Something I know is not there
Something so terribly close
A furnace of leaning is humming inside me
I have here all I need to know

[Chorus]
I often go back to that place
Where everything seems so surreal
I dig myself into the center of that silence
No grasping, no trying to feel
Something I know is not there
Something so terribly close
A furnace of leaning is humming inside me
I have here all I need to know