I never met the middle man
He never spoke
Just exchanged hands
The siren’s song was the tune to which he danced
Just like the undertaker
Counting his friends

I had a friend who knew him well
But how they met
She’d never tell
She filled my glass so I never asked
As I made note that she only spoke
Of her distant past

I’ve seen that middle man before
His many faces and the open door
I’ve been in his house
Passed out on his couch
Face down on the floor
Was always cold
Like a jailhouse cell
The mortuary
And the bank’s stronghold

Just like the question, that you never ask
The middle man has half a glass
That’s always full of something that you’d rather not know of
But you know it’s there
The smoke and mirrors
Neon lights
That stink in the air
Take a deep breath

The middle man’s the phantom’s mask
Flowers on the grave
The cork in the cask
That twist-and-screw will never do
If he’s the one that taught you
So I’d keep my eye
On where he stands
That middle man
Trying to bribe the tides
He’s pulling