Lindbergh left Long Island in 1927   Thumbed his nose at gravity and climbed into the heavens   When he returned to earth that night everything had changed   For the pilot and the planet, everything was rearranged      We're a pretty mixed up bunch   Of crazy human beings   It's written on our rocket ships   And in early cave wall scenes      How does it happen?   How do we know?   Who sits and watches?   Who does the show?      Some people love to lead, some refuse to dance   Some play it safely, others take a chance   Still it's all a mystery, this place we call the world   Where most live as oysters while some become pearls      Elvis was the only man from Northeast Mississippi   Who could shake his hips and still be loved by rednecks, cops and hippies   It's something more than DNA that tells us who we are   It's method and it's magic, we are of the stars      Some never fade away and some crash and burn   Some make the world go round, others watch it turn   Still it's all a mystery, this place we call the world   Most are fine as oysters while some become pearls      Lindbergh left Long Island in 1927