The return of the Freedom Seven
A shepherd following his dog to the ends of the Earth
Second by twenty-three days, Alan; no-one knew your name
You didn't get your sixteen minutes of fame

Just a second, second shot
Second, second shot

All that glitters isn't gold, but who cares, anyway?
Playing handball with my conscience
America, come back to me

For a second, second shot
Second, second shot

The Great Escape, tunnelling through the air
One man and his dog, playing all the time
One small ball for a man
One giant game for mankind

And a second, second shot
Second, second shot