an Assteroid’s a comin
to smash ye down to size
Yes, YOU—who scorned the earthbound fools, and sought to rule the skies
You never had much use for humdrum rules of rock and stone
You’ll break your bread with any man, yet fill your mouth alone
Where others see what’s simply there, you grasp what might or could be
Your dreams inspire wakeful men to forge the world that should be
You’re not an easy man to love… but worship feels the same
Too many rules are bent or known to still enjoy the game
But watch your step, sweet Sky King! Air’s treacherous terrain…
You sit upon a throne of clouds that many’d long to gain
So clog your realm with satellites to propagate your word
As who could blame you, rocket man—should slanderers be heard?
You see so much from way up high, it hardly proves a boon;
So many treat you like the sun, you try to court the moon!
Though Luna’s no harsh mistress; simply not where you should be
You’ll just waste time—not break your neck—when you fall at .17 G
Yet time for men of rock and stone is often held in dearth
Each second spent in Gingrich Mode removes you from the earth
And when that Assteroid appears you’re seldom the one who really suffers
It’s the people who were mad enough to love you… and to serve as stratospheric buffers
So get back on the pot and start shitting, my pseudo-suzerain of the stars.
There’s better men than you who need a path carved forth to Mars.