| There’s a plane across the moon
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| As a nation finds its feet
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| There are listening posts in Cyprus
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| That can track a man’s heart-beat
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| There’s a plane across the moon
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| As a nation holds its breath
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| There are trades on hold in London
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| Waiting on Lumumba’s death
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| You say ‘Yeah, but that was then and this is now,
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| That was then,'
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| But now is made up of then,
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| Now is made up of then,
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| Again, again; |
| again, again.
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| There’s a plane across the moon
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| As a nation spreads its wings
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| There are cables out of Washington
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| In code a darkness brings
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| There’s a plane across the moon
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| As a nation leaves the nest
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| Just send the thugs some dollars
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| And greed will do the rest
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| Planes and moons let business take its course
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| The infant state must suffocate, no profit in remorse
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| Moons make planes much easier to sight
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| Some damage is collateral, Dag Hammarskjöld's last flight |