a house is not a home

I was listening to Luther Vandross's "A House Is Not A Home" this morning to work. I wondered if I could get work where I'm constantly traveling. That way I could never get attached to anything. Not one single soul, or materiel. Is it possible? Am I really. How though? ("Its driving me crazy")as he said. Even in the dark, you find what you cant explain. ("Well well well well") Its me. Its me. Its me. You can turn the heat up all you want, I feel cold inside. I hate defrosting the car in the morning.