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The Commander Thinks Aloud

Boys and girls in cars

Dogs and birds on lawns

From here I can touch the sun

Yeah yeahPut your jackets on

I feel we're being born

The Tropic of Capricorn is below

Yeah yeah yeah yeahWe stall above the pole

Still your face is young

As we feel our weight return

Yeah yeahA trail of shooting stars

The horses call of storm

Because the air contains the charge

Yeah yeah yeah yeahThe radio is on

And Houston knows the score

Can you feel it?

We're almost home

Yeah yeah yeah yeahThe crew compartment's breaking up

The crew compartment's breaking up

The crew compartment's breaking up

The crew compartment's breaking up

The crew compartment's breaking up

The crew compartment's breaking up

The crew compartment's breaking up

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