Likes to have the morning paper crossword solved, huh!
Words go up, words come down
Fowards, backwards, twisted round, heh!
He grabs a pile of letters from a small suitcase
Disappears into an office
It's another working day
And his thoughts are full of strangers
Corridors of naked lights
And his mind once full of reason,
Now there's more than meets the eye
Oh, a stranger's face he carries with him
He likes a bot of reading on the subway home
A distant radio whistling tunes that nobody knows
At home a house awaits him
He unlocks the door
Thinking once there was a sea here
But there never was a door
And his thoughts are full of strangers
And his eyes too numb to see
And nothing that he knows of
And nowhere where he's been
Wad ever quite like this
And his thoughts are full of stangers
Corridors of naked light
And his mind once full of reason
Now there's more than meets the eye
Oh a stranger's face he carries with him
And at heart
He's full of strangers
Dodging on his train of thought
Train of thought
Dodging on his train of thought

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