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I’m not going to the moon,
no, not anytime soon.
I just came crashing down.
All I see is a frown.

I said I’d grab a star,
but I wasn’t up to par.
Is the star really for me?
Who knows? But we’ll see.

Now, am I just a loser?
Where will I be in the future?
Only God knows the answer.
Yes, I’m really just a loser.

But I’m still breathin’
even though I’m beaten.
Who says I’ll stop flying?
No, not when I’m living.

I’m not walking on the moon.
And I won’t be there soon.
I’m resting on a mountain top.
Here is not where I stop.

My feet are on the grass,
but my eyes are looking hard
at the moon and the star
even though it still seems far.

— Petra