Star Turtle 1
Harry Connick, Jr.
My hands are red
Admittedly, the cross is mine
The time is come
Forsake the brine
Alone with the void for a thousand years
I am the first of the reptillian rocketeers
Doom shins its bitter brink
Its goblins casting stench to pave the way
Im going off to seek the soul
Wholl teach me of the day
A boy will be born in the garden
Ill wait on a patch of green grass
Somehow hell know to find me there
And place a star upon my crust
Well trace the crescents rim
Pawns pursuit of deliverance
My soul a satchel for musical vim
Then Ill return to save my race