Well, now I notice the streetlamp's hum. The ghosts of graffiti they couldn't quite erase. The blank-faced stares on the subway as people go home. The parks lay empty like my unmade bed, the streets are silent like my lifeless telephone, and this is where I live, but I've never felt less at home🏁
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Well, now I notice the streetlamp's hum. The ghosts of graffiti they couldn't quite erase. The blank-faced stares on the subway as people go home. The parks lay empty like my unmade bed, the streets are silent like my lifeless telephone, and this is where I live, but I've never felt less at home🏁