What is this place, the place I see?
Could it be the land of opportunity?
The place we work,
The place we try,
Some will live,
Others will die.
We look so strong.
Although inside we are weak.
A better world
Is what we seek.

Far away,
There is a place.
I like to call it,
Outer space.
Nothing to live,
Nobody to care.
Most likely because,
There is no air.

When I look
Up at the sky,
Sometimes I wish
That I could fly.
Only me.
I would see,
What has become
Of this land of opportunity.

Nothing left to do but amend,
For the wonderful lives that we've made end.
Our direction must be facing ahead.
If only you'd listen to what I had said.
It doesn't have to be this way.
The whole wide world,
Turning grey.

The damage that's done.
The pain we've left.
I can only imagine,
What happens next.
Desperation and hunger,
Fills our air.
But we didn't even think,
To actually care.

The ones we hate,
And those of which we're fond.
It doesn't even matter,
Because they'll all be gone.

So next time you look,
Up at the stars,
Forget the pollution and the cars.
But look real hard,
And you'll see me.
Looking down,
On what could be.
What could be,
A great place.
For every soul
And every face.
Every heart,
Every mind,
Every spirit,
And every kind.

And I'll be looking,
At the place I see.
Our land.
Of Opportunity.