If you cleaned your rocket
Of course we’d fly on away
I’d ask who needs steel When
Wings work the very same way
You may ask what happens
If we reach outer space
I’d simply reply the fuel we’re using
Is a mixture of our elegance and grace
If a ship is what we need for you to feel safe
I’ll ride with you searching for the havens we misplaced
Galaxies may shine bright supernova’s would explode
Our perfect presence’ effect
Making them seem young and us eons old
Grasp the gravity of the situations’ matter in full
The energy of cosmos radiating from our pull.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
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