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Earth in the window The earth is visible through the porthole... As a son mourns for his mother, We are sad about the Earth - she is alone And yet the stars A little closer, but everyone is also cold And, as in the hours of eclipse, We are waiting for the light and see earthly dreams And we are not dreaming of the roar of the spaceport Not this icy blue And we dream of grass, grass near the house Green, green grass And we fly in orbits, in unbeaten ways Stitched with meteorites expanse Justified risk and courage, space music Floats into our business conversation In some kind of haze matte earth in the porthole Evening and early dawn And the son is sad about his mother, The mother is waiting for the son, and the Earth is waiting for the sons spaceport Not this icy blue And we dream of grass, grass near the house
