He likes to have
The morning paper crossword solved
Words go up, words come down
Forwards, backwards, twisted round
He grabs a pile of letter's
From a small suitcase
Disappears into an office
It's another workin7 day

And his thoughts
Are full of strangers
Corridors of naked light
And his mind
Was full of reason
Now there's more than meets the eye
Oh a stranger's face
It travels with him

He likes a bit of reading
On the subway home
A distant radio whistlin' 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
There ain't nothing that he knows of
And nowhere where he's been
Whatever it wasn't like this

And his thoughts
Are full of strangers
Corridors of naked light
And his mind
Was full of reason
Now there's more than meets the eye
Oh a stranger's face
It travels with him

And the heart is full of strangers
Dodging on his train of thought
Train of thought