So its seems we've made contact
With an outer planetary superior intellect Words conveyed and then displayed For all to see without dismay But some would say that its man made But still we read and then we pray From faith to faith from outer space Heavens and stars belief we chase what a thought we ought and must take sight A study mudded be endless gripe. A book so real we touch we feel For endless time has no appeal Soon it comes we know in fact the end foretold from first contact.
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