Men Of ProgressPlease don't Blow Up The MoonWe have Grown quite Fond of her.The tides Of oceans, The tides Of our bodies Have fallen in love With her magic. Push and pull.Her light In the night sky, The hope In darkness After foreboding, The play Of form and change, The silver pendant The ancients Have passed down.Leave the moon To her eternal birth. Haven't you done enough To Earth?
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