The Guy That No-One Really Knows

No-one was sure when he moved there, it’s like he just appeared Kinda old, not young, no interesting features (‘cept a beard) And he only came out from his house to get his weekly mail And to collect some stamps and envelopes - always without fail This day, his neighbour came and knocked - “Hello! my name is Joan I rarely see you leave your house, do you live here alone?” He oddly recognized her as a “yes” escaped his mouth “Could you come in a sec? I need to figure some things out..” The town pretty much carries on its day And the people all go about their way The sun may shine but the wind blows cold And it carries whispers & secrets told And that’s how it goes for the guy that no-one really knows So, William was the postal man that Joan was married to He saw the two of them converse from down a street or two He watched an hour till finally they both stepped back outside They hugged, he squeezed her hand, she stroked his face there as he cried A man of rocky temperament was William to be sure He fumed back to the mailroom. Angrily he slammed his door Unconscious thought is a funny thing, and rage is hard to hide No less when staring at a carton of Rodenticide “We gave you up, but understand I was a nervous dumb young man And I know it’s hard but keep it quiet for now We must get hold of your Mum somehow I will write back home” said the guy that no-one really knows There’s no relief from loneliness, for that there’s no respite It just makes you make poor choices that will keep you up at night And what’s the point of jealousy? What even is it for? That bitter claim of ownership over what your heart adores And if you can’t speak the words and thoughts your stormy brain’ll bring You can write ‘em down and send ‘em off, it’s mostly the same thing They only thought something was up when his mailbox overflowed A month or so of letters scattered all over the road They found him on a Monday, inside his house alone With no suspicious circumstances, cause of death unknown Said Joan “Oh Bill, he was my Dad. He told me back in June” He began to shake and nervously that William left the room And the next day, well, she found him hanging, swinging in the breeze With a letter of confession in the pocket of his jeans “I don’t know how to think too much The glue would sting as the tongue did touch I saw you two and I jumped the gun I can’t handle the guilt o’er what I done” But the town pretty much carried on its day And the people all went about their way The sun will burn and the winds howl cold And it’ll carry the tales & the stories old It carried them, too, ‘bout the guy that no-one really knew Oh his time was due, the guy that no-one really knew And it’s mostly true, this story of the guy that no-one really knew And thus concludes my yarn about the guy that no-one really knew