they set their European leather souls
on these New World sands
fully ready to believe all the foggy mythos
and maybe they were really gods
wielding thunder sticks
and off into the wilderness they trompsed
slaughtering for
fountains of youth and cities of gold

hey Neal,
when you put that steel boot down
in the lunar dust
with the solar wind at your back
were you shocked
that no man in the moon
rushed up
to offer you green cheese