the start didn't use any spotlights
the end missed his cheering applause
all you saw is
smoke in the air and burned-down candles
it was
the man in the theatre
there's not much he had
but I met him once
owning cigarettes between his lips
beer on the table
it was
black hair turning grey
growing pain in his back
from
all the problems he couldn't carry
people all around
I ask myself
does he still feel alone?
changing lights
taxis on the streets
cigarettes and beer
that's all he needs,
but
he told me stories about driving
without a destination
finding love in the heart of a woman
but then she died away
he told me
love means
to let go
and he dealt with two girls
part-timely working at his bar
singing songs that filled the theatre
he cried
and one night they asked him
is it possible
to love
two persons at the same time?
and I'd never seen him
smile that kind
I watched him sitting in his chair
smoking thoughts into the air
I was listening to many of his stories
still found him falling
falling for his worries
does he still feel alone?
he used to kiss me on the cheeks,
loved to see us dance and sing
and nobody was allowed to go
without taking a drink
isn't it funny that we all met each other
even though he's the one who lost us all?
once I saw him as a wise man
I still do
but I think he got blinded by his fears
he's pushing away every touch that reaches his skin
and even if the smoke is leaving
he still breathes it in
and
goes his path, lets the demons win
the man in the theatre
has much to say
while keeping quiet
I don't know if it's true,
but it's not the theatre he desired
it's about money
it always is
and lies and betrayal,
shame and egoistic tendencies to hide the truth,
but
he's still sitting there
smoking cigarettes
watching people passing by
I thank God that I met him
cause it led my way
make me take new turns
sometimes I miss him
his mocking words about
me being on the phone
his warm hands on my shoulders
karaoke nights with friends from irish borders,
latina dancing wodka drinks
with a guitar in the back and
a woman who sings, cause
she shortly thinks
no one's listening
I was
working together with a friend
leaving work with gin tonic in our hand
driving home and trying to pretend
that these days could last forever,
but love means to let go, to end
so I know
one day
the theatre'll close its doors
the man will be gone
and I'll have to say
that I truly pity the fate he chooses
if I could I would go back and sit down for one more night
I would like to watch my smile
as we all didn't know that it was meant to be our last time
the man in the theatre
reminds me of my fears
ending up alone by
pushing away what I love
yes,
love means to let go
but,
love also needs to hold on
in any form
I hope you remember this
when the show is ending
and the lights go out,
because
I don't want you to take his chair
and smoke alone
after all of them
-all the love in your life-
seem to be fully gone
man in the theatre
I want you to hold on