| Lyrics |
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 day
And his thoughts
Are full of strangers
Corridors of naked light
And his mind
Once full of reason
Now there's more than meets the eye
Now a stranger's face
He carries with him
He 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 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
Was ever quite like this
And his thoughts
Are full of strangers
Corridors of naked light
And his mind
Once full of reason
Now there's more than meets the eye
Now a stranger's face
He carries with him
And the heart is full of strangers
Dodging on his train of thought
Train of thought
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