On an early summer morning, July '69
As I dream of the planets
I hear a voice softly whisper: 'son, it is time
It's happening soon'
It's a quarter to four now and he carries me down
To our place by the telly
I see lights on in houses all over town
For the man on the Moon
One small step for man
But a giant leap for mankind
The mighty Apollo prevailed
The Eagle has landed
I go back to my warm bed, back to my dreams
But not the one of the planets
I decided this morning I don't want to be
The man on the Moon
As I lie here in this cold tank, living a dream
I'm the last on the planets
I decided this morning I don't want to be
The man on Mars
"It is the 17th century. I am a noble ensign-bearer posing with my guild for
the Dutch master painter, Rembrandt van Rijn, in Amsterdam."
