The conquest of space

The conquest of space
Could get ugly

You can get there
In your sleep
You can follow the rivers
Of bright stars

You pack up your bags
And go to the moon
Your footprints
Are like a sign of ownership

You plant the flag
Of your nation
Yet you cannot say
Where you’ll be
In twenty years time

See the dust of stars
leave pile ups of debris

the bird of paradise
sings to the earth
desire the gold
of far away planets

and God finished his work
and look it was good

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