Lindbergh left Long Island in 1927
Thumbed his nose at gravity and climbed into the heavens
When he returned to earth that night everything had changed
For the pilot and the planet, everything was rearranged
We're a pretty mixed up bunch
Of crazy human beings
It's written on our rocket ships
And in early cave wall scenes
How does it happen?
How do we know?
Who sits and watches?
Who does the show?
Some people love to lead, some refuse to dance
Some play it safely, others take a chance
Still it's all a mystery, this place we call the world
Where most live as oysters while some become pearls
Elvis was the only man from Northeast Mississippi
Who could shake his hips and still be loved by rednecks, cops and hippies
It's something more than DNA that tells us who we are
It's method and it's magic, we are of the stars
Some never fade away and some crash and burn
Some make the world go round, others watch it turn
Still it's all a mystery, this place we call the world
Most are fine as oysters while some become pearls
Lindbergh left Long Island in 1927