i blacked out on the launch pad
so, if you came to see me soar
sorry you had to hear me snore
i'll not, today, become the fad
i remember my dear, old dad
he broke the very speed of sound
but I can't claim I was around
i'd trotted off to Leningrad
but powering down made me glad
i can't rocket into that cold night
a tragic rider with Quixote's sight
my only hope lies in going mad
what great men have gone this way
cursing in the light of day
