standing on the moon ground
nothing walks in mind
still the air, still the dust
while the hours crawls by side
blanking looks for bleaching blight
no light here can hit
living on this moonside
the last of the men
dancing on the sunlight
where movements bring desires
jumping fierce, by the fire
when his love hits the world
running past the molten arcs
and singing out of loud
"i am on the blessing sun"
the last of the men
walking on the purest soil
while water flows and cries
glimpse of light, blink of night
admiring all the world
watching as the nature grows
noone else can hear
that he is finally free and lone
the last of the men
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