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The Green Hills of Earth

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From the harsh bright soil of Luna,
To Saturn's rainbow rings,
In the hearts of every spaceman,
Is a lonely voice that sings.

As we pray for one last landing,
On the globe that gave us birth,
Let us rest our eyes on the fleecy skies,
And the cool, green hills of Earth.


In the frozen night of Titan,
And the shades of Phobian sky,
Still our homeland's voices call us,
Like a restless bird-dog cry.

So we pray for one last landing,
On the globe that gave us birth,
To set foot once more on a sandy shore,
And the cool, green hills of Earth.


Through the fiery Jovian gas storms,
And Plutonian cold that burns,
Though our eyes look ever outwards,
Our hearts long to return.

And we pray for one last landing,
On the globe that gave us birth,
Let us rest our eyes on the fleecy skies,
And the cool, green hills of Earth.


In the harsh Mercurian sunrise,
And the heady Martian air,
All the sights and sounds we've witnessed,
Still our hearts long to be there,

When we make our one last landing,
On the globe that gave us birth,
And we rest our eyes on the fleecy skies,
And the cool, green hills of Earth.


We have travelled every spaceway,
Flown every rocket trail,
Yet our hearts still bear an imprint,
To which all wonders must pale.

For we pray for one last landing,
On the globe that gave us birth,
Let us rest our eyes on the fleecy skies,
And the cool, green hills of Earth.