Up late, uptight. Something just don't feel quite right

I've been walking around aimlessly on this endless street

Reading the signs, got some tequila with lime, and some dilating time

Discomposed down to my bones, so I can't stay home take it outside

Head down, hood up. I can fade into the night

Where my thoughts are not so byzantine amongst the philistines and the rank and file

As I beguile their dialectic style

What if I never went home again? Do you think maybe I could blend in with the mercantile?