Your own stranger

In the end, you will become your own stranger

In the crowding mass you'll find the lone stranger

When you sit home late drifting by the fire

Standing on your rug will be a starblown stranger

Tucking in your toddler just like every other night

Your heart will kick you hard. He's a full-grown stranger.

When you come from the party, barefoot through the fog

You will see him marching, your rag-bone stranger

Lost in the squaredance of your limping mind

You will wake to the whistle of the rhinestone stranger

When you're deep in the rebellion of the clapping fools

The one who comes for you will be the best-known stranger