They say there's a man on the moon
To me, the moon is a she
She sits in the sky
She follows the sun
Who unfortunatley rises too soon

Among the twinkling stars she flies
Always outshining them all
She does not burn
She changes each day
And she's caught within this orator's eyes

Is there such thing as a moonset?
Why does the sun deserve such a name?
She's more beautiful
She is not so harsh
Her brightness is much like a net