There's a planet, not a million miles from here,
where the only word used is 'bliss'.
There's a planet, dreamt up somewhere,
whose inhabitants speak in cockney rhyme.
There's a planet, an evil twin of earth,
where everything is spoken backwards.
There's a planet, nestled away across the milky way,
where silence rules, except for a minute every year, when everyone cries, in respect of those who died by sound.
There's a planet, you can see if you squint,
where nobody can understand what anyone is saying.
There's a planet, yet to be discovered by astronomers,
where people communicate through a combination of singing, telepathy and sign language.
There's a planet, heard of in ancient tales,
where everyone uses computer-generated speech,
and speak of a long-awaited prophet called Hawking.
There's a planet, spinning through the astral realms,
where twisted creatures can't stop laughing at a joke which everyone long forgot.
There's a planet, down, down, in the hell realms,
where language has been stripped of beauty and pleasure, and merely serves to describe machines.
There's a planet, spinning round a nearby star, where sexy aliens utter orgasmic groans, in an ever-rising, never-ending crescendo.
There's a planet, where we reside,
in which languages are becoming extinct by the day.
There's a planet, which is being born,
where different languages dance and mix to create a new poetic vision, the age of the imagination, starting NOW!