| Little red door on a pink house | 
| Two bedrooms and four walls | 
| Modest don’t quite sum it up | 
| Green lino on the floor | 
| Mom and dad hand in hand | 
| And the tree I used to climb | 
| On the bluff of Stanwell Park | 
| Where the ocean meets the sky | 
| Oh, I keep turning pages in my mind | 
| I keep crossing paths and crossing lines | 
| And I saw more | 
| Than these doors and corridors | 
| We’d go wandering with the dinosaurs | 
| Singing with the whales | 
| High on daddy’s shoulders | 
| Grandpa’d tell us tales | 
| Of whiskey faces, secret places | 
| Where we could run and hide | 
| We found a window to a world | 
| That wasn’t my shape or my size | 
| When I keep turning pages in my mind | 
| I keep crossing paths and crossing lines | 
| And I saw more | 
| Than these doors and corridors | 
| If I could say the words, I couldn’t | 
| If I could change a thing, I wouldn’t | 
| All of these doors and corridors | 
| They brought me right here | 
| Little white room with a blue light | 
| Cold hands and paper cups | 
| Snowflakes hope in hell they said | 
| The only way is up | 
| We said goodbye a thousand times | 
| See you on the other side | 
| Between this world and the next | 
| A shallow breath a beating life | 
| But I kept turning pages in my mind | 
| I kept crossing paths and crossing lines | 
| And I saw more | 
| Than these doors and corridors | 
| Ooh, if I could say the words, I couldn’t | 
| If I could change a thing, I wouldn’t | 
| All of these doors and corridors | 
| They brought me right here | 
| I could have folded, but, I didn’t | 
| I played the hand that I was given | 
| They left me wanting so much more | 
| And I’m gonna find them all I’m sure | 
| Oh, I owe it all | 
| To these doors and corridors |