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 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 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
Dodging on his train of thought
Train of thought