I was born here and I’ll die here against my will / I know it looks like I’m moving, but I’m standing still / Every nerve in my body is so vacant and numb / I can’t even remember what it was I came here to get away from / Don’t even hear a murmur [...]

And there are things / That I do / That don’t mean a thing anyway / There are things / That I do / That don’t mean a thing anyway / They don’t mean a thing anyway / And don’t you, don’t you forget about me / Forget about me (Micah P. Hinson)

Caught in between somewhere this and there / Convincing myself that I can get over it / Convincing myself to pick up the phone / That I’m never leaving home (Micah P. Hinson)