Cyclops scans the skies
With nine hundred eyes
And each a hundred meters end to end.
Waiting just to find
A distant sentient mind
From any signals it might care to send.
The whole Cyclops crew
Met at Stanford U.
Designing thru the summer of 'seventy one.
Now we know the way
To build a huge array,
The best that Congress chooses not to fund.
Cyclops, the array
We hope to build some day
Will listen to the very edge of space.
When we've finally heard
An interstellar word,
Within the cosmic club we'll take our place.
Cyclops, the design
Will soon be yours and mine,
Although the cost is more than we can bear.
Somehow, find the funds
The project must be done
If we're to learn if anyone is there.
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