Compartments

One, two
One, two, three, four

In a closet
In the corner of my mind
There's a thought there
That occurs to me sometimes

What you look for
Isn't always what you find, no, no
But the pleasure
Is the fun I get from crying

Its a measure of your mettle
What you sette for
It's your job to get the most from what you think you are
So tell me what you are

In a wallet
In a pocket of my mind
Lies my fortune
All I've got to spend is time

In a mirror
In a room up in my mind
I can see things
Even though my eyes are blind

One, two
One, two, three, four