pahavit (pahavit) wrote,

Babelfishing Poetry: "Children Of The Moon Rocket"

Babelfishing Poetry: "Children Of The Moon Rocket"

Hello? How are you?  Hope you're very well, fine, and dandy.  And as long as I don't think about the scary mess that the world has turned into, I am well, fine and dandy too.  So, since it's Friday, let us proceed to some Babelfishing poetry, where I take song lyrics, run them through an on-line translator such as (but not necessarily) Babelfish, convolute the punctuation a bit, and wind up with a quirky kind of poem.

Speaking of the scary mess that the world has turned into, this week's feature is the "psychedelic soul" hit from 1970 by The Temptations, "Ball Of Confusion" (listen to song here).  Enjoy. 

Children Of The Moon Rocket

1, 2, and 1, 2, 3, 4, sorry!

Those who are the people in motion,
now color
between the ran, and ran, and ran, but what else is hidden in him?

The eyes in the eyes, and the idol's idol.
And I need you; vote independent
during a presentation of the brother's music.

The people asked, but my brother is a pastor.
Only nothing seems to come into the disciple's house but learning.
Divorce, integration, screen resolution.
Nation humiliation and excitement.
Oh, yes it is, I will not be obvious.
Classified in the world today. Pedro Woo, alas.

The other CD is always for sale.
Many young people dream of becoming a bleeding head, and he's sharp.
In the days that follow the summer beginning with fire,
you can win.

Development, revolution, gun control, and strong again.
We become the children of the moon rocket and strength.
I will fix the name of all the other politicians,
and a new team.

Round and round and round.
I can deny the world dag causes a torpedo.

There was no significant difference, which can googalooga well.
It isn't only that is correct.
Oh, yes, all of the things, this guy is something,
after Pedro Woo.

Stress it is not fear, sharp with a bleeding was everywhere.
Unemployment in the room and lost my phone in clusters between village.
Current drought of drought-free housing in India times.
And a new team.

City Inspector Yves will invoice the total destruction of Bernardo.
Only a small percentage is reduced population.
The value of suicide, and Bill, and hippies there on the mountain.
World people, the price of war,
and a new team.

Let me see . . . I jumped and I was.
That system is no ball game.
What is this man in the world today?  Alas, alas,
I turn it off.

Tags: babelfishing, poem

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