Nofx

Endless evenings of non-exist
Are getting shorter, monotonous
Like an intruder, I belong outside
Although I find myself right back
The same place I was before
Saying things I'd say once more
There's no reason for me to be here, no
I feel so lonesome, surrounded by friends
Who are talking at me,
saying things I could care less about
This dialogue is without
Worth, content, significance
Conversational ambivalence
Hear the same things every night, it just ain't right
Who'll be left holding the bag?