I watched you asleep on your side of the bed
Peaceful and quiet—peaceful and quiet
I noticed a little door into your head
Must have been there before
I could tell by your breathing you’d sleep through the night
Dead to the world—dead to the world
So I reached in the door and I turned on the light
And tiptoed inside to see

    A lot of it looked like the house looked outside
    Though not quite as roomy and not quite as wide
    And since I couldn’t sleep I went in for a ride
    And went walking around your brain

A year’s worth of smiles were wrapped up in a bow
That you never used—you never used
Oh what did you save them for I’ll never know
Maybe they weren’t for me
You’d laid out your dreams in an old cedar chest
Out in the hall—out in the hall
You’d paired each one off with a skirt and a vest
As far as the eye could see

    Couldn’t find one of me, but there were ten thousand ‘you’s
    Lined up in the closet right next to your shoes
    And I wondered tomorrow which one would you choose
    For walking around your brain

Things I thought you’d lost, or maybe mislaid
Were there in a drawer—there in a drawer
A flower I gave you, a promise we made
A bicycle built for two
The honeymoon suite looked a little bit used
Still smelled of roses—still smelled of roses
And there still was some champagne in one of your shoes
And a tux laid across the bed

    So I tried it all on, but to my surprise
    Didn’t none of it suit me and it wasn’t my size
    But I could see why you picked it, it matches your eyes
    For walking around your brain
    So I tiptoed back out as you turned in the bed
    I asked, “Were you dreaming?” “I think so,” you said.
    “It seemed like some stranger was inside my head
    And walking around my brain.”

I don’t think I’d better go back there again
Walking around your brain

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