Train Of Thought
He likes to have the morning papers crossword solved
Words go up
words come down
fonnrards
backwards
twisted round.
He grabs a pile of letters from a small suitcase
Disappears into an office
its another working day.
And his thoughts are full of strangers
corridors of naked lights.
And his mind once full of reason
Now theres more than meets the eye.
Now a strangers face he carries with him.
He likes a bit of reading on the subway home
A distant radios 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 too numb to see.
And nothing that he knows of
and nowhere where hes been
Wont ever quite like this.
And his thoughts are full of strangers
Corridors of naked lights. . . .
And at heart hes full of strangers
Dodging on his train of thought.
