Shadow Sort and Searcher For Future

I feel like a phantom in this town.
I come out at night, but I hide in the corners,
Dark shadows, and alleyways,
With a few ragged sorts,
That understand my distant nature.

Everything is a role;
Put on the collared shirt and take an order,
Slow down the night with something
Sounding good and right,
Joke with the coworkers about the night,
And silently drive home,
To the quiet I like.

Even in the public eye,
Parading with pride the art I help heave,
I'm always off from the meaning,
Just setting in the groove I remember,
Then of course, disappearing.

The faces, they look at me.
They wonder what I'm up to,
But I only give them a little bit,
Just enough to pay the due.
I cleared the slate a while back.
Now I wait to pack my bags
And return to soil that makes sense.
But I always disappeared in that town too.
I'm always disappearing,
And I don't know why.

If you've got a beautiful mind,
What the hell's the use to hide?
Well it's a curse to be so selfish,
But I once gave them everything,
And ended up afraid and sad,
Because it wasn't always well received.
The pain, it lasts, but I'm going to open up again,
And let the flood pass.