If the world turns upside down,
I wonder which cloud would catch me,
I wonder which star would catch me,
But then again, what about the rest?
Out of the thousand stars,
Millions, billions, and I lost count,
Would they stay there and wait for me?
Thousand dies or even millions
Till I lost count once more
I doubt I'll ever find them
Once I fly a free fall.
But there are the clods
Ever floating up on the blue
I have the feeling they'll wait for me.
But are they even real?
Perhaps, yes, as far as my eyes fathoms.
But they're made up of tears,
I guess I'll drown if they ever catch me.
So who'll ever catch
A lonely old man as me,
If ever Sir Isaac err
From his gravitational theory.
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