The Man Next Door

I know I will forever know him,

Although I won't see him,

They tell me seeing is believing,

But will I ever know?

I can call him what I want to,

Figaro, Bob, Joe,

But I will never know his full name,

I can wonder though.

He lives right beside me,

Near my throne of cotton and silk.

If he ever comes out to play, 

I will not pay attention,

My imagination can be reality,

Or it can be completely wrong.

If I don't pay attention, 

He can be perfect,

With long flowing hair,

And the greatest facial features.

This is why the man next door,

Will always be a mystery.