There is something beautiful
That appears every single night
The hour of the pearl begins
When we turn off the light.
It is the silvery disc shining down
A loyal satellite in our skies
Stare at it too much
You’ll have spots before your eyes.
Can we see a face?
Is it the man in the moon?
Like it is depicted
In a children’s television cartoon.
Is it a big slice of cheese?
Just suspended in outer space
With little mice in spacesuits
In their little hiding place.
Or is it a big jewel
Twinkling in a huge golden crown
Fit for only those with enough money
And a super sized ball gown.
Will there be trips to walk amongst the dust?
That has not moved since beginning of time
With your new moon boots and suits
New craters to discover, new hills to climb.
Will we have rockets ready in a launch pad?
Just sitting waiting for mission control
Next door neighbours blasting off like no tomorrow
Exploring the old black hole.
Will there be holiday companies
Will there be hotels by the million
But all with the same old view
A super nova to look at occasionally
From a helmet you can just about see through.
No special menu, no specially cooked meals
Just tablets of dried up pieces of dust
Made from chemicals designed to taste like
Best steak and mushrooms in a cheese pie crust.
No drinks from the bar, no happy hour
Just controlled vapour from a tube
Whizzing down one’s throat.
Complete with an artificial ice cube.
Do you really want of all this?
It could really all come all too soon.
But between you and me, I would rather
Just enjoy the beauty of the old moon.