Starry, starry night.
Clear skies in sight.
Birds of freedom, take flight.
For all that may change, tonight.
Factories shall spit into the air we breathe,
Cars will roar and their drivers seethe.
Death might claim us with his mask and sanguine scythe,
There's nothing we can do but scream and writhe.
Will you make a stand?
Will you take my hand?
Let us rebuild this land,
With azure skies and clear sand.
Clear skies in sight.
Birds of freedom, take flight.
For all that may change, tonight.
Factories shall spit into the air we breathe,
Cars will roar and their drivers seethe.
Death might claim us with his mask and sanguine scythe,
There's nothing we can do but scream and writhe.
Will you make a stand?
Will you take my hand?
Let us rebuild this land,
With azure skies and clear sand.
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