Even the most materialist of Martians
And the loftiest of Venusians
Wants to return to the poor earth
To rescue it from itself
The council of the Cherubim
Are distressed to weeping
He who must be obeyed
Rustles his Exusiai
That Jupiter send out his thoughts
Through the galaxies and streets
Even our angels tremble
Struggling to comfort us
But the Lord just stands there
Ready to receive us
Whenever we're ready
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