There is a Planet B;
it\'s written in the scroll,
an earth, with no more sea,
a world of wonder, whole!
As pure as driven snow,
a place of perfect peace,
where evil will not grow
and sorrows there will cease.
Each nation on that globe
they’ll rule: those souls who dwell
(all clad in righteous robe)
and quarrels they will quell.
Their capital, New J,
a city so sublime,
won’t need aurora’s ray,
nor spring or summer time.
The paths are paved with gold,
each door’s a pristine pearl.
There’ll be no growing old
for faith-filled boy and girl!
There is a Planet B;
it’s waiting in the wings.
Our Lord’s its meek marquis,
the king: the king of kings!