It's strange how much I don't care
If I'm home or not at home.
I could convince myself I'm comfortable
While in heaven, hell, or Nome.
If the language is a barrier,
It's tunneled underneath,
Those moments of near-frustration
Followed by near-relief.
Besides, how many people
Would I talk to in a day?
Any crowd I run with,
I'm alone there anyway.
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