Round World by Peter Mayer . . . .

Oh Columbus
You become us
With your scheme, your glorious plan
And dream of a far-away land
And with your blessing
We keep pressing
Giving this present place up
For just one more America

But every time I fly to the West
I arrive nonetheless
In the place that I left
In this round world

If I try to flee
And leave this city
To be free from humanity’s cares
Humanity follows me there
And if I steal aboard
The boat bound for the farthest shore
I’m told crossing the ocean won’t work
And the only boat left is the Earth

But every time I fly to the West
I arrive nonetheless
In the place that I left
In this round world

So Columbus
Can you tell us
That there are no more new lands afar
If we don’t make it right where we are