It appears you're spun as well

We use to think we had finger tips, but lately we only see ourselves tippin' with our wallets on those drunken nights out- when our arms attach at the bottom, and our feet double in amount. This way, that way, we'll fall to the floor, but it doesn't make a difference. Others around us, they are, they are too indulged, indulged in the sound waves that float across the ceiling, indulged in the tongues, that never stop moving. So I'll stay on the floor, and watch the world spin until my skin melts again..

Bein' on your own can be quite romantic.

If I could land on my feet, you know, I'd be walkin' on the ceiling. Arms, legs, and limbs all flailin'. Hair stands on end, grippin' to it's roots as my face turns red and my feet turn blue. I'm walking with the spiders, I'm becoming glued, yet sometimes I still think this web isn't large enough for you...