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