Verse 1:
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 suit case
Disappers into an office its another working day
Chorus 1:
And his thoughts are full of strangers,
corridors of naked lights
And his mind once full of reason,
Now there' more than meets the eye
Now a strangers face he carries with him
Verse 2:
He likes a bit of reading on the subway home
distant radio's 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
Chorus 2 (same chords):
And his thoughts are full of strangers,
and his eyes too numb too see
And nothing, that he knows of,
and nowhere where he's been
Was never quite like this
Repeat chorus 1
Ending:
and at heart he's full of strangers,
dodging on his train of thought
(to fade)