Ever looked up at the stars,
Those distant firey lights?
They fill the sky with diamonds,
A truly wonderous sight

Each tiny, glittering, pinprick,
Furnaces like our sun.
The melting pots of creation.
The crucible from which we come.

And fleeing round these warriors,
Held tightly in their fists,
A handful of servile planets.
See them dance and twist.

Upon one of these vanquished rocks,
A mind looks out and dreams,
Of all the others out there,
Chasing round each gleam.

Never able to question,
Anything that it sees.
Before any possible awarness,
It's older than the trees.

Man's been around forever.
Always owned this rock.
Nothing worthwhile before us.
We are the chosen stock.

Tell me you don't think this.
Tell me it's not true.
When you think of dinosaurs,
Do you think of caveman too?

Oh we are so COCKY,
To think we are the best.
Ok, then tell me,
Who owns all the rest?

There's a magnificent furnace out there,
For every breath you take,
(That's roughly every 3 seconds,
That's the average rate).

So, if we're "One in a billion",
Every glitter a single chance.
Not so lonely after all,
Just blinkered with ignorance.