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? Let me bounce off your lens and into the trees 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