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?

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