Fernando Ortega On The Line
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.
