We the people of this lovely little town Send our thanks daily to our icons in their soft meat crowns And see none, hear none, lest the secret police strike us down And goodness isn't the moon beautiful? And goodness isn't the moon beautiful?
The sunset echoes over hills of brush and sand As children frolic across the vastness of the Scrublands And the floating lights drive responsibly, so they must be our friends And goodness isn't the moon beautiful? And goodness isn't the moon beautiful?
Voices in lane five cry out for war And you probably shouldn't talk to Telly anymore And we have a Dog Park, but it's not for dogs, so what's it for? And goodness isn't the void beautiful? And goodness isn't the void beautiful?
We the people of this lovely little town Wish to someday achieve the rank of Eternal Scout And look to the sky to find what everyone's screaming about-- Helicopter blades and demonic wails seem to drown them out But through the chaos all we really want is to shout: Is, goodness isn't the moon beautiful!