We dreamt it clearly, shush don't tell them: the blue craters and all of the glass, the lush plant life, the lack of angles and the fluorescence, under stars. But can you keep a secret? We're gonna be the kids [bad word] everything in the twenty-second century. Don't ever say that we'll never get there, we can start with our jars of coins, we'll build space suits made out of silver, we'll find a rocket in the rocket graveyard.