Where is the real stuff and when do you know I got a pocket full of money and no place to go And I'm sure that it's hard, but always too slow I got a head full of something and nothing to show I took a casual walk to let off some steam And I found out that maybe we're not what we seem Why was it always the land and fear of the sea And maybe too late, but you could've just asked me I always find myself stranded with cuts on my face In some strange part of town where I don't know my place But I've never left Normal if that were the case I could never come back if my footsteps erased And the houses are sleeping, all down your block And I'll probably give up, just so we can talk I got a head full of something and nothing to show For a pocket full of money and no place to go My brother he's walked from New Zealand to Rome I crawled to the city and I couldn't find my way home He might never come back, by the way that he talks Whereas he always returned from casual walks.