The man in the middle has always been here
He's the emotion of love, anxiety, and fear
He tells you to laugh then he tells you to cry
Never really explaining the whole reason why

The reason for pain and the reason fear
The reason for hope in a dying mans tears

To tell you the truth I really can't say
Just what makes a man play the games that he plays
First with his own mind then others as well
Addicted to power while building his cell

A cell built of lies to himself and his friends
Till the lies have consumed the very best part of him
The part of a man that is honest and proud
The part that would no doubt stick out in a croud

The part that can't see, taste, touch, smell, or hear
So we'll just call him Mel and this Mel turns our gears
He's in charge of our feelings though he has no degree
Got all of his wisdom from his own family tree

A tree that's like no other tree on this earth
A tree that's been nourished by those since his birth
From old teachers and family, to friends led astray
He forged his own place for his mind to go play

A place with outrageously, intricate toys
A place that would never have room for a boy
"A Boy," with his hopes and his dreams and his fears
Adrift on a cloud that's been lost through the years

Lost; because without direction he's found
That nothing compers to the deafening sound
Of his own selfish thoughts running round in his head
Bringing past things to life, killing present things dead

Using only neglect as a passive refrain
Hoping it will excuse all he lacks just the same

Though it worked for a while, seems it's all come undone
Thanks be to God, through the birth of my son
For to give little ones what we never received
Is like breaking a chain that nobody can see

A chain that has bound generations of men
Till the stresses and strains break the link that won't bend