How long have I been standing Just staring at the floor How long was that door open I never noticed it before There was always a certain rhythm To the way that I was feeling It's your fault my fault It's their fault but it never felt like leaving There are throngs and crowds Of people gathered underneath a steeple You go inside I'll be outside Listening on a speaker But don't mind me As I'm pacing the back by myself Searching for a shelf Or a crack in the wall Someplace that might conceal me I'll climb inside and hide indefinitely I am not a man But I'm still a person