Isolated & Pondering

I can't stop picking at my fingers
I think I've developed some cabin fever
Even when I go out I'm alone
And I haven't got a single place to call my "home"
I can't stop fidgeting in my seat
I bet there's people out there I'd like to meet
So few and far in between
And my confidence is weak
Every time I look in the mirror
My perception of reality gets thinner
I'm thinking of becoming a beggar
Or maybe I'll become a stripper
But I'm not as complicated as I feel
I just want to have requited love
Someone whose lip I can bite
And they'll hold me tight
All through otherwise lonely nights
Maybe I'll just sell my soul
For silver and gold
All the drugs and sex in the world
Then I'll die young
While laying in the sun
And a bird will shit on my face