Say, surveyor, could you stay a little later?
Go put that thing on and sing a little song.
Your creations are measured elevations.
We’ll build from boundaries that you’ve planned on the land,
Where we stand hand in hand.
It’s your fate to navigate the minute and great.
We can’t wait,
Don’t be late.
It’s your condition to determine our position.
Test your best guess of what is on the surface.
Dimensions, space, and points between
Map a dream,
A scheme supreme of things unseen.
You can find your piece of mind in the sky,
If you try.
It’s all right,
Go put that thing on and sing a little song.

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