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Out There

Are you driving?
With your handlebar mustache?
Are you a low rider?
Trying to be so distinguished?
Or what about hang gliding?
Floating under the sky?
Once you go up there,
It might open up your eyes.
How about the moon?
It still even further away,
Jump on board a rocket,
And become M.I.A.
The last in line,
The sun is really hot,
So bring your dark sunglasses,
Because you're an astronaut.
But back here on earth,
We spin and go ‘round,
We all feel the gravity,
In the cities or in the towns.
So, meet me up,
In outer space,
I won't tell anyone,
Or leave a trace.
I won't breathe air,
But I don't care,
So meet me up in outer space.

©1999-2021 Steve Bujanow

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Copyright©1999-2021 Steve Bujanow, Neocortex. All Rights Reserved.

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