July twentieth, nineteen sixty nine;
In Essex, a boy, nearly eight years old,
Wearing a pair of shoes of Clarks design,
Sat watching the first moon-landing unfold.
As he gazed at the moon’s surface he saw,
It actually matched the soles of his shoes,
And as Armstrong’s foot came down on that floor,
He pictured himself making headline news;
A man in a spacesuit jumping around
Sending greetings to Earth from outer space;
A hero, (shortly to be homeward bound),
With a glass bowl around his cheerful face;
He was an astronaut, and in his mind,
He made his own giant leap for mankind.