Formatted, soiled, Terraformed, humanized Harvest of rotating stones Rebuilt in a welcoming shape Under the heat of these new suns Visions of sick skies Painted with unknown colours Inhospitable gravities Thirst of discovery So much new fields to cultivate So much power to take Throwing the alien seed We're not at home Submitted to relativity We are the bad grass Still, we know nothing Sliding in vacuum Can't reach the bounds yet Close to the step ahead Feeling sentience out there Something is waiting It could hold the universe in a hand