I'm not at homenI have no instruments, no instrumentsnI'm using yoursnI'm throwing pillows on the floor, on the floornnAnd when I'm home, I'm not at homenAnd when I'm home, I'm not at homenI'm having thoughts of driving in a stormnI was in a stormnnI'm not in lovenI'd like to say I never was, never wasnIt wasn't real, now I can say it wasn't realnnAnd when I'm home, I'm not at homenAnd when I'm home, I'm not at homenI'm crossing fingers I won't run intonRun into you