Текст песне : Shel Silverstein. I'm From Outerspace.
Well, I know this may surprise you, for you've known me for so long
But I've tricked you with my music, and I've fooled you with my song;
But my mission here is over, and I've watched the Human Race,
And now the truth can be revealed, I'm from Outer Space.
And my given name is Gilpage, and I'm really 2 foot 8,
And when you think you've shook my hand, you've really slapped my face.
And I'm the son of the seventh Zorb, from a distant dying race,
Sent to see if it was safe, for us from Outer Space.
But I'm leaving in the mornin' on a Q-Electra-Blue,
I'll hang a right at Jupiter on the far side of the Moon;
And I'll stand before the Elders and they'll ask me of this place,
And if the Earth could be a home for folks from Outer Space.
But I'll tell 'em how you love to fight and how you love to war,
And how you never seem to learn from mistakes you made before;
And I'll tell 'em how you treat the old and what you teach the young,
And how you've melted down your plows and turned them into guns.
So it's been real fine to know you, but I'll soon be with my own,
And I guess we'll take our chances, and leave your world alone;
And perhaps we'll even meet again, in another time and place,
But this ain't a healthy atmosphere for folks from Outer Space.
So I'm leaving in the mornin' on a Q-Electra-Blue,
And I'll hang a right at Jupiter on the far side of the Moon;
And I'll stand before the Elders and when they'll ask me of this place,
I'll tell 'em that there ain't no room for folks from Outer Space.
But I've tricked you with my music, and I've fooled you with my song;
But my mission here is over, and I've watched the Human Race,
And now the truth can be revealed, I'm from Outer Space.
And my given name is Gilpage, and I'm really 2 foot 8,
And when you think you've shook my hand, you've really slapped my face.
And I'm the son of the seventh Zorb, from a distant dying race,
Sent to see if it was safe, for us from Outer Space.
But I'm leaving in the mornin' on a Q-Electra-Blue,
I'll hang a right at Jupiter on the far side of the Moon;
And I'll stand before the Elders and they'll ask me of this place,
And if the Earth could be a home for folks from Outer Space.
But I'll tell 'em how you love to fight and how you love to war,
And how you never seem to learn from mistakes you made before;
And I'll tell 'em how you treat the old and what you teach the young,
And how you've melted down your plows and turned them into guns.
So it's been real fine to know you, but I'll soon be with my own,
And I guess we'll take our chances, and leave your world alone;
And perhaps we'll even meet again, in another time and place,
But this ain't a healthy atmosphere for folks from Outer Space.
So I'm leaving in the mornin' on a Q-Electra-Blue,
And I'll hang a right at Jupiter on the far side of the Moon;
And I'll stand before the Elders and when they'll ask me of this place,
I'll tell 'em that there ain't no room for folks from Outer Space.
Shel Silverstein
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