When I first came up with the lines, I don't know what it is, but you got to do it/ I don't know where to go but you got to be there, I was at this party for The Strokes in New York. There was this prevailing sense of, "We're not quite sure what's happening or what is cool, but we know that it's somewhere around here, in this room." It was this vague confusion, with everybody kind of sniffing for blood. It wasn't that it was a bad party, or that I don't like The Strokes; I just think there's a lot of confusion right now in the music business. Then, later on, I realized the song was really personal. I didn't know where I was, and I didn't know I was actually lost. It wasn't about the party at all; it's about searching but not knowing what you're searching for. There's the train motif, being on this train heading for either oblivion or salvation and just holding on for dear life. That song came down from some mountain somewhere, because it was right after I wrote it that I sort of packed it in.

I don't know what it is, but you got to do it
I don't know where to go, but you got to be there
I don't know where to fall
But I know that it’s comfortable where
I don't know where it is

Putting all of my time in learning to care
And a bucket of rhymes I threw up somewhere
Want a locket of who made me lose 
My perfunctory view of all that is around
And of all that I do

So I knock on the door, take a step that is new
Never been here before
Is there anyone else who’s too
In love with beauty
Playing all of the games
And thinks three's company
Is there anyone else who has slightly mysterious bruises
I don't know what it is

Sick of looking around at friendly faces
All declaring a war on far off places
Is there anyone else who is through 
With complaining about what's been done unto us

So I knock on the door
And I am on the train
Going god knows where to
To get me over, to get me over

Give me heaven or hell, Calais or Dover

I was hoping the train, was my big number
Taking the Santa Fe and the Atchison Topeka
But we’re chugging along, Dunaway by the crossing
And could be heading for Poland, or limbo or Lower Manhattan

Find myself running around
I don't know what it is 
To get me over

I don't know what it is to get me over
I don't know what it is to get me over
To get me over
You gotta do it.
You gotta be there.