He likes to have the morning paper`s 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 nked 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 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 to numb to see And nothing that he knows of And nowhere where he`s been Was ever quite like this And his thoughts... And at heart He`s full of strangers Doging on his train of thought Train of thought
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