ANTARCTIC PEOPLE It takes a special kind of fool
To leave a home and job, or school
And pack a bag and grab a plane
And leave behind the 'safe and sane' To go somewhere remote as Mars
With no McDonald's, T.V., or cars
No Exxon stations, no Pizza Huts,
No 7-11's - you'd have to be nuts! To cast one's lot with a gang of freaks
Misfits, outcasts, grouches and geeks
Collectors of rocks, of eggs, of scales
Sewer repairmen, benders of nails Far-fetched minds from far-flung places
Wild lights in their eyes, strange knots in their laces
Strange tastes in music, strange tastes in food
Strange hair; strange clothing; good God, what a brood! What fool wants to go where those maniacs are?
Each one a stranger, each stranger bizarre
Who'd leave behind all that's comfortably known
For a place without streetlights, police, or ozone? A fool, perhaps, with the mind of a child
Alert and curious, friendly and wild
Foolishly tickled to witness a dawn
Delighted when two other fools sing a song Or perhaps a fool with a cynical bent
Who scoffed at society, got up and went
Broke off and ran from what others hold dear
Went as far as one can - and washed ashore here Or it could be a fool of Columbus's mold
Miraculous worlds to seek and behold
More faith in tomorrow than any 'today'
No 'here' as delightful as getting away Fools? Perhaps; but special past doubt
Children and sceptics from the wide world about
Gathered by chances as random as dice
And sent to this 'home for the way-weird': the Ice And here to be tortured, ignored, and distressed
And find in each other the strength for the test
And find in these fools the best friends they've known
And see in themselves a fool of their own So they bond together in a blissful way
Hopeful fools in their world for a day
As a part-time tribe, a fore-doomed race
Good friends? Total strangers? Both at once - what a place | 
