I walk slowly in the middle of the crowd
As time fast-forwards, and people run to and fro
In the rushing sea of earth-bound fish that is life
Can you spot the difference?

Flocks of birds return to their nests in the evening
And leashes of foxes leave their dens at night
But I have no place to rest my head
There is no shelter for this urban gypsy

“Vagrant!” screams the lady watering her plants
“Bum!” yells the old man on his rocking chair on the front porch
“Parasite!” a bitter youth spits out as he meanders the high street
“Good guess, but that’s not who I am” I tell them each time

“Where are you from?” I have been asked before
Do they want the long answer or the short answer to that?
The truth would be “I come from many places”
But instead I opt for the simple one, because the truth only leads to more questions.

Being a wanderer sounds like a nice occupation
After all, you get to meet a lot of interesting people
But the company never lasts, and it hurts to say farewell
So I go for the next best thing and say, “See you later”

Search far and search wide
As hard as you can
You’ll never find me
I’m the Nowhere Man