ANNA, HERSCHEL:
We are building
We are building

ANNA:
A brick satellite
A brick satellite
Planet Earth, 1817
My father sailed ships on the Caribbean Sea
Thrown off course by a storm, suddenly
He didn’t know his place in the world
By the time the skies had finally cleared
Every bit of navigation gear
Was shattered by the storm, suddenly
Suddenly, they didn’t know their place in the world

HERSCHEL:
In the Northern Hemisphere, look for Polaris
In the Southеrn Hemisphere, thе Southern Cross
Latitude’s an easy thing to figure
But longitude, with no gear - you’re at a loss

ANNA:
My father was a proud man
He could follow a star
He had maps of every port in the Atlantic
But when you look up to heaven
And you don’t know where you are
You begin to give in to the panic
ANNA, HERSCHEL:
He needed a brick satellite
A brick satellite

ANNA:
He tried his best, but he could not be saved
Soon his ship was taken by the waves
I made a vow back then, nobody
Should ever lose their place in the world
So I aced each class, studied every book
Building and experimenting, anything to look
For a sign, a lifeline for those who are lost at sea…

HERSCHEL:
We met at university
And started talking shop
We helped each other graduate

ANNA:
He knew I’d never stop
The years began to pass

HERSCHEL:
But we always kept in touch

ANNA:
It hit me like a lightning bolt
HERSCHEL:
It came out in a rush

ANNA:
We could build a new kind of Polaris
One that sits at a fixed altitude
Hanging in the sky for weary travelers
To help them calculate their longitude

HERSCHEL:
A sphere

ANNA:
A moon…

ANNA, HERSCHEL:
A satellite!

ANNA:
Two-hundred feet wide

HERSCHEL:
It’d have to clear the atmosphere
And rest on the other side

ANNA:
We’ll launch it using flywheels
Of titanic mass and size
HERSCHEL:
Let’s build a ramp upon a river

ANNA:
Yes!

HERSCHEL:
And point it at the skies

ANNA:
I’ll draw it up

HERSCHEL:
I’ll get the land

ANNA:
I’ll get to work

HERSCHEL:
I’ll lend a hand

ANNA:
But what will it be made of
It must stand fire well
If this satellite is to survive its fateful voyage
It must be substantial
With a solid outer shell

HERSCHEL:
It won’t be lack and plaster

ANNA:
Wood won’t do the trick

HERSCHEL:
Iron will not answer

ANNA, HERSCHEL:
It must be brick!
So we’re building a brick satellite
We’re building a brick satellite
Watch it as it takes its flight
Shining in the night
This is your brick satellite
This is your brick satellite
Don’t give up the fight
Travel where you might
We will reunite
Just follow the brick satellite
The brick satellite