"down the corridor is the residence of sorrow i'm creepin on the hardwood floor i walk quiet on from where she lay sleepin in the shadow of the pale moon i leave a last tap on the crescent of her hip my promise breath in her ear on another night as i slip away i wanted to be her man i wanted to be her man i'm waitin to be her man yeah i sent dispatches well i'm a good lieutenant that way hey from lonely stations i make and break promises the explanations they contain and i deliver these disappointments with a sorrow that grows deeper and deadlier every day yeah and i wanted to be her man i wanted to be her man i'm waitin to be her man and i try and i try i try to make it happen it's so hard pretending that it don't even matter understand now come back she's moving in different patterns she's responding to the constant strain of fact, fiction, and promises and to the harsh truths that they contain so i take care, make less noise when i'm here now so she won't hear me on the hard wood on the nights when i've gone away yeah i wanted to be her man i wanted to be her man i wanted to be her man i'm tryin and tryin and i gotta make it happen it's no good pretending that it don't really matter and good intending let's try and send it and i wanted to be her man and i'm waiting to be her man and i wanted to be her man and i'm tryin, tryin, tryin"