That Man

love is an affliction
and passion is the symptom
but they don't know that yet do they?
all hunkered down next to
this generations fireside
telling the same sad old stories
and before we know it
we join in their chorus of pain
becoming self absorbed with
those things that matter not

you have to admit
the prey is easy here
silhouetted by the warm and friendly glow
of their monitor
typing out words of great sorrow
filled with little hope
and even less worth
to anyone who would
casually pass by without feeling

sad same old story
loneliness begets lonely
and so on and so forth
spiraling downward
until one day
you find yourself
just a fat old man
bored with living
and waiting for the day
when a heart that is tired of waiting
stops beating and in silence
you fall with a satisfied look
on a worn and withered face

i don't want to be that man
no no
i don't want to be that man
filled to the brim with emotional cancer
no no
please don't let me be that man

and the animals that gather
in the park on rainy days
waiting for hand outs
seem to look even sadder today
as if they've lost a friend
yes, the old man who sat there
day after day
feeding them crusty bread is gone
did he die or just forget to come?
has he expended his supply of bread?
like the words that flowed in his youth
all dried up without warning
such a tragedy for the world to see
to think he was once like you and me
then one day he was drug down
by the weight of his own soul
black and tortured from a constant
diet of overindulgence
gorged on ego and desire
the cup of his courage drained
by the forces of vanity gone wild

if the director would only say cut
this would all go away
and i can return to my quiet
peaceful playground in the corner of my imagination
where there are no screaming audiences
no critics, no onlookers
who are waiting for you to make that
all important first mistake
but now i'm stuck here
with my head in the sand
and i can feel the presence of that man

can someone explain to me,
what happened in the night
where did this come from?
and why is it here?
i thought no love was expendable
i thought it was understood
that i can't go out there without
falling flat on my face
don't you know i need you?
without you i'm nothing
so why can't we stop all this fighting?

you ask me if i'm in need
of some intangible
a desire you cannot fulfill
but what is it that i would want from
invisible creatures who ride
on horses of processors
along trails of binary patterns
searching for listeners of sadness
wanting nothing but attention
a false sense of security
a need for a make believe family
no, i only played the cards that were dealt
and in the end i would donate the winnings
to someone who could use them
a seeker of legions to lead into
fictitious battles for love and affection

so what will we do with them?
these monsters in the hall
that creep around stalking the night
watching us, taunting us
keeping us on different sides of the path
what can we do?
just sit here in silence and hope they go away
or do we continue to feed them
each day they grow
larger and larger
each day they breed another little
sprout of anger and jealousy
wanting a taste of the bread in my hand
what if we turned and roared back at them?
told them to just go away
we could chase them down the corridor
to the end of the line
chase them back into the world they came from
but then we would be forced to deal with the crisis
of seeing our reflection in the mirror

i don't want to be that man anymore
can't you understand?
i wasn't ever really him at all
i don't want to be that man anymore
please just take my hand
and walk with me till the end
let our love light the way
it's only a game if you play
and i don't want to be that man
who is lying on the floor
life spent and wasted on nothing
satisfied that the end has finally came
no, i'm not that man
please
natacha please,

don't ever let me become that man