Fernando Ortega

On The Line

Fernando Ortega


He wakes up worried, 
Something's always wrong, 
He can't remember, 
He goes on and on, 
On and on. 

He gets confused, 
Holds his head in his hands, 
Willful and afraid, 
But he's still a man, 
Still a man. 

He's alone, 
Frail and thin 
We listen, but fail him. 
Out of time, 
We're running out of time, 
And old life on the line, 
Old life on the line. 

He lost most everyone 
He ever loved 
His mother, His Father, 
His only Son, 
His only son. 

He holds onto things 
Stamps and coins, 
He holds onto no one 
And hides his mail 
Like a broken boy. 

He believes in no one for too long. 
He needs attention, so many demands, 
So sentimental, a bitter man 
A bitter man.