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    There are men in shades just standing around
    These bleeding stars, the paradox.
    Let the eyes of God be our god
    To find a gentle path.

    There's a broken record playing in tune
    To the floating waves of the antennae,
    And you were just a little guy,
    And I was little, too.

    And everything is just floating freely,
    Just rocking around like a rocking horse,
    Just jiggling around like silly putty,
    And who are you and I?

    And you were looking at me smiling,
    The aliens were just arriving,
    Wherever they are heading next,
    Speaking secret tounges.

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