They could be fat or could be thin 
 They could be black, they could be white 
 Tell me who's knocking at the knocking shop door tonight 

 Not much a door can do but open or close 
 Those things are above doors 
 Not much legs can do but open or close 
 Those things are above us whores 

 So imagine a mirror 
 Bigger than the room it was placed in 
 Imagine my wish for a future that cannot hold my wish 
 Imagine the want to hold a rod that cannot hold the fish 
 Imagine a rod that cannot hold the fish 

 They could be lonely or could be fust 
 They could be tack, they could be real 
 They do have feelings, but just right now I feel 

 A feminine receptacle, that's just what I am 
 Those things are above us whores 
 Just the best target practice, for a misguided man 
 Those things are above us whores 

 So imagine a mirror 
 Bigger than the room it was placed in 
 Imagine my wish for a future that cannot hold my wish 
 Imagine the want to hold a rod that cannot hold the fish 
 Imagine a rod that cannot hold the fish