A Self Called Nowhere

I'm sitting on the curb

By the empty parking lot

Of the store where they let me play the organ

I'm waiting for my ride

But I want to wait inside

Of the store where they let me play the organ

But I'm thinking of a wooden chair

In a room at the top of a stair

And I'm looking down the stairwell

At the vanishing dot

On the map of the spot

Let me take you there

The dotted line

Surrounding the mind

Of a self called nowhere

It's a thing named "it"

In a bottomless pit

You can't see it there

The sunken head

That lies in the bed

Of a self called nowhere

Standing in my yard

Where they tore down the garage

To make room for the torn down garage

I'm looking for my car

But I must have sold my car

When I needed to buy an electric organ

But I'm thinking of a wooden chair

In a room at the top of a stair

And I'm looking down the stairwell

At the vanishing dot

On the map of the spot

Let me take you there

The dotted line

Surrounding the mind

Of a self called nowhere

It's a thing named "it"

In a bottomless pit

You can't see it there

The sunken head

That lies in the bed

Of a self called nowhere

Nowhere

The vanishing dot

On the map of the spot

Let me take you there

The dotted line

Surrounding the mind

Of a self called nowhere

It's a thing named "it"

In a bottomless pit

You can't see it there

The sunken head

That lies in the bed

Of a self called