The return of the Freedom Seven

A shepherd following his dog to the ends of the Earth

Second by twenty-three days, Alan; no-one knew your name

You didn't get your sixteen minutes of fame

Just a second, second shot

Second, second shot

All that glitters isn't gold, but who cares, anyway?

Let me bounce off your lens and into the trees

Playing handball with my conscience

America, come back to me

For a second, second shot

Second, second shot

The Great Escape, tunnelling through the air

One man and his dog, playing all the time

One small ball for a man

One giant game for mankind

And a second, second shot

Second, second shot