I've got to get closer but I don't know how

Well, it was bound to happen. The blind man called.

He called when I at Monica's apartment. Let me tell you that Monica wasn't in her apartment when the blind man called. Neither were Loving Hand and Burning Sand. They were at a pet store.

At first, I wasn't going to answer the phone, because who has a landline (besides Dad) nowadays? There's no good in landlines, is what I was thinking, when I reached out and answered it. It felt good to pick up something heavy, something with some heft, and bring it to my ear. Then I understood why people still owned landlines. The voice on the other end said, "Monica? I need lyrics."I knew it was the blind man immediately. Something in my gut told me so, and I saw him clearly in his house, sitting alone at a table much like I was. Except he couldn't see the room I saw him in.

"I need lyrics, Monica," he said.
"Monica's not here," I said.
"Oh, who's this?"
"Um."
"You must be Monica's brother."
"Yes, I am Monica's brother," I said.
"Listen," he said. I pushed the phone harder against my ear. "Could you tell me the lyrics to a song. I can't see. I mean, I'm blind, and I can't look up the lyrics."
"Oh," I said. "Sure?"
"Great! The song is Sussudio by Phil Collins."
I went to Monica's computer and typed in: Sussudio lyrics. "Ok," I said. "Got it. Ready?"
The blind man cleared his throat. "Yes," he said. "I am ready to hear the lyrics to the song."
"There's this girl that's been on my mind," I said.
"Very nice."
"All the time..."
"All the time?"
"That's what it says," I said.
"Ok," the blind man said.
"All the time, Sussudio, oh oh. Now she don't even know my name."
"No?" The blind man clicked his tongue. "What a shame."
"Do you want me to go on?" I asked.
"Yes, please."
"Ok," I said. "Now she don't even know my name. But I think she likes me just the same."
"Probably not," the blind man said. "I was afraid of this."
"Sussudio. Oh oh. Oh if she called me I'd be there. I'd come running anywhere. She's all I need, all my life. I feel so good--"  
"Oh boy," the blind man said. "This guy sounds like a whack."

This went on and on until I read all the lyrics. It was exhausting, really, but the blind man seemed content. He thanked me and hung up the phone. I'd never heard the song before because, well, I was locked up. But I wanted to listen to it. So I did:

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