My Dad suffered Diabities and depression and spent many months in hospital care, to the point that he did not know where he was nor why. He did not want therapy nor rehab after his infected leg was removed. Music was some comfort, but mostly he just wanted it to be Over.
There is a Man on the Moon thinks he's up on a ladder
Wants to know how to get down.
He feels so unsteady, someone better come soon
And take care of the man.
There is a Man on the Moon floating up to the ceiling
On smoke rings of jazz in the night.
Peterson, Ellington, Charmichael tunes,
Sing along with the man.
But the Man on the Moon's losing balance.
He's been up in that bed a long time.
In his hospital room
He wanders the lunar eclipse of his mind.
There is a Man on the Moon doesn't want to be rescued,
No mission to bring him back home.
All he wishes or wants is an end to come soon.
Say goodnight to the Man on the Moon.