Nobody knows what he's thinking Doesn't really step out even when he's drinking Seems kind of creepy seems like the kind that stalks Nobody knows when he's sinking Always looks pensive whether or not he's thinking To him it seems to him it screams Everyone's just waiting to talk
Everyone's waiting to talk, Lord It's all so terribly awkward on the verandas in the front halls In the bus station's bathroom stalls Yes it seems everyone's just waiting to talk
What must he be thinking? Can we even guess? He's not really linking Himself with the rest Does he know our big secret? Has one of us confessed? 'Bout the wires circuits and motors Buried in our chest
It's all just a pointless equation This parabolic conversation Like two distinct lines Never the twain shall meet Never? No never
Nobody knows what he's thinking Doesn't really step out even when he's drinking To him it seems to certain extremes That everyone's waiting to talk