© 1983 Don Simpson
Once there was a Ship of Stone
That orbited a mighty Star
And from it flew the First Ship's crew
Whose children we all are
And no matter how long we've drawn our track
Still over our shoulder looking back
Through the hydrogen's hiss and the methane's moan
Past the polymer clouds of the Dead Stars' shrouds
All our roads run back to the Ship of Stone
There the First Crew all were made
And wakened from unknowing sleep
By the boundless sight of Heaven's height
And the fires of the Deep
And no matter how strange the forms we wear
How warped and wild, how rich and rare
How changed we've made the seed we've sown
We are blood of those who, singing, rose
From the body of the Ship of Stone