Something's missing, and I don't know how to fix it.
I don't know what it is at all.
Something's different, and I don't know what it is.

Friends, check.
Money, check.
Opposite sex, check.
Guitar, check.
Microphone, check.
Messages waiting on me when I come home, check.

I can't be sure that this state of mind is not of my own design.

When autumn comes, it doesn't ask.
It just walks in where it left you last.
You never know when it starts
until there's fog inside the glass around you summerheart.