Oh, brighter than a thousand suns,
the march towards the stars
on the wheel, on the car,
off the plane, off the planet
and on in the search.
Yes, we pray in the dark in the Sciences' church.
Upon the tree of knowledge
the fruit is bitter-sweet;
to the man in the street
all its myriad benefits Science confers
but we're still in the dark, much as we always were.
Run your mind down the Sciences;
none of them lay claim to show more than a part
but still we shout out what we know
the silence is enough to break the mortal heart.