[Intro] They gave me a measuring tape And a shape to fit inside I folded up the little map And drew beyond its lines [Spoken] They said, “Pick one.” I picked the whole strange box of crayons. [Verse 1] I wear two mismatched shoes to town One takes the stairs, one skips the ground My pockets hold a paper moon A bent spoon, and a kazoo You asked me which way people go I said, “The way the wild seeds blow” Then built a tiny door in air And walked through it with purple hair [Pre-Chorus] If every rule is made of string Then watch what happens when I swing I’ll turn the “wrong” way into art And give the odd bits all my heart [Chorus] Make room, make room, I’m arriving sideways With a pocketful of thunder and a hat full of Mondays Call me too much, call me peculiar I’m not a puzzle, I’m the whole panorama If your doorway only lets one shape through Cut a new window; let the weird come through [Verse 2] I taught my chair to spin in place My teacup wears a tiny cape The clock ran backward through the hall And nobody corrected it at all I made a kite from old receipts It flew above the bakery street The baker waved a rolling pin And said, “That’s how adventures begin” [Pre-Chorus] A thought can wear its Sunday shoes Then change its mind and join the blues A crooked line can find its way To something no straight road could say [Chorus] Make room, make room, I’m arriving sideways With a pocketful of thunder and a hat full of Mondays Call me too much, call me peculiar I’m not a puzzle, I’m the whole panorama If your doorway only lets one shape through Cut a new window; let the weird come through [Instrumental Break] [Bridge] Some days the room gets very small And every eye becomes a wall I tuck my bright ideas away And practice being beige all day Then from my sleeve a paper fish Says, “You forgot your own odd wish” So I unfold the hidden page And let my colors leave the cage [Breakdown] One crooked thought One brave hello One little seed Can split the stone [Build] No perfect label, no fixed design The strange in yours can sit with mine We’ll make a place where every shape Can bend, invent, and change its name [Final Chorus] Make room, make room, we’re arriving sideways With a pocketful of thunder and a hat full of Mondays Call us too much, call us peculiar We’re not a puzzle, we’re the whole panorama If your doorway only lets one shape through Cut a new window; let the weird come through [Final Refrain] Wear the clouds, keep the key Draw a door where none should be Change your tune, turn around Plant a garden upside down [Outro] They gave me a measuring tape I made a ribbon for the sky
