Nothing Feels Good

I don't know east texas from Louisiana. And I don't know Alabama or where Atlanta lies tonight. And Indianapolis. Summers in park and recreation pools, and carsick vacations in size eleven in "I'm going to heaven" shoes. I don't know god; I don't know anyone or if anything will be all right. Like I don't know Billy Ocean from the ocean floor. I don't own any albums, I don't know anything. I don't go to college anymore. I've got my hands on the one hand, but I don't know where to put them. But on the other hand, I don't know if I'll talk my way out of this one tonight.