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He likes to have the morning paper's
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Crossword solved
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Words go up words come down
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Forwards backwards twisted round
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He grabs a pile of letters from a small suitcase
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Disappears into an office
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It's another working day
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And his thoughts are full of strangers
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Corridors of naked lights
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And his mind once full of reason
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Now there's more than meets the eye
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Oh, a stranger's face he carries with him
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He likes a bit of reading on the subway home
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A distant radio whistling tunes that nobody knows
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At home a house awaits him, He unlocks the door
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Thinking once there was a sea here
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But there never was a door
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And his thoughts are full of strangers
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And his eyes to numb to see
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And nothing that he knows of
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And nowhere where he's been
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Was ever quite like this
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And his thoughts...
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And at heart
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He's full of strangers
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Dodging on his train of thought
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Train of thought
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*»ç¶ûÇØ.TETO+
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-----------------
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Train Of Thought
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A Ha |