I shot the stage, six times Before you come On equal, silver, grey same

 

The distortion throbs While mother sobs But all the children And all the men Seem content to be back again

 

Heat rose from the modules, six times Clench of a fist Could cause this silvery, grey mist...grey mist

 

The distortion eased While mother dried But all the children And all the men Seem incontent to be free again

 

And you entered, and you screamed All six of us stood And when you answered, goodnight No one understood, No one understood no one understood