He likes to have the morning paper crossword solved
Words go up, words come down Forwards, backwards, twisted ‘round He grabs a pile of letters from a small suitcase Disappears into an office It’s another working dayAnd 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 himHe likes a bit 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 doorAnd 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 Was ever quite like this YeahAnd 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 himAnd at heart
He’s full of strangers Dodging on his train of thought Train of thought