Ron Carlson

Lyrics

Moonbeam

A young man with a pruning saw as the sun was setting red
Had one more chore to finish before he could go to bed
He leaned a ladder up against his backyard cherry tree
Thinking if the moon can soar so high then why, oh why, can’t we?

Years later on his Aunt Effie’s farm
He began to test his dream
Of mankind flying to the moon
How odd that must have seemed
To the neighbors round the little farm
His old teachers teachers back at school
People called him moonman
And thought him quite the fool

The old farm is a golf course now
The cherry tree’s blown down
Golf balls arc like rockets
and fall back to the ground
But you can’t hold a moonbeam
And dreams are like the wind
And dreamers weave the future
As our little planet spins

We need the farmers calloused hands
To raise the the food we eat
We also need the dreamers
Who’s grasp exceeds their reach
We toil away the hours and days
Beneath an endless sky
But moonbeams are the stuff of dreams
And dreams let us fly high

The old farm is a golf course now
The cherry tree’s blown down
Golf balls arc like rockets
And fall back to the ground
But you can’t hold a moonbeam
And dreams are like the wind
And dreamers weave the future
As our little planet spins

When the first small rockets flew and roared
The neighbors all complained
The newspapers called him moon man
And lots of other names
He moved out to New Mexico
To carry out his tests
That led to mankind’s giant leap
And Neal Armstrong’s first step

The old farm is a golf course now
The cherry tree’s blown down
Golf balls arc like rockets
And fall back to the ground
But you can’t hold a moonbeam
And dreams are like the wind
And dreamers weave the future
As our little planet spins

So it may strike you funny, but our journey to the stars
Began on this small golf course where I struggled to make par.
When that little rocket sizzled high
I wonder if he knew
How little time would pass before
His childhood dream came true?

The old farm is a golf course now
The cherry tree’s blown down
Golf balls arc like rockets
And fall back to the ground
But you can’t hold a moonbeam
And dreams are like the wind
And dreamers weave the future
As our little planet spins

Ron Carlson
Sept, 2025