Earth in the porthole, earth in the porthole
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The earth is visible through the window.
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As a son mourns for his mother, as a son mourns for his mother,
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We are sad about the earth - it is one.
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But the stars, nevertheless, and the stars, nevertheless
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A little closer, but everyone is also cold.
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And as in the hours of the eclipse, and as in the hours of the eclipse
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We wait for the light and see earthly dreams.
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And we are not dreaming of the roar of the spaceport,
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Not this icy blue
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And we dream of grass, grass at home,
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Green, green grass.
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And we fly in orbits
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By unbeaten paths,
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Space is stitched with meteorites.
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The risk and courage are justified,
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space music
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Floats into our business conversation.
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In some haze matte,
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Earth in the window -
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Evening-early dawn.
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And the son is sad about his mother,
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And the son is sad about his mother,
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The mother is waiting for the son, and the Earth is waiting for the sons.
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And we are not dreaming of the roar of the spaceport,
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Not this icy blue
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And we dream of grass, grass at home,
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Green, green grass.
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And we are not dreaming of the roar of the spaceport,
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Not this icy blue
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And we dream of grass, grass at home,
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Green, green grass.
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And we are not dreaming of the roar of the spaceport,
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Not this icy blue
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And we dream of grass, grass at home,
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Green, green grass. |